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“BEWARE, THERE IS DANGER IN THE DARK!" 




IN THE DARK: 



A TALE OP 



INTRIGUE AND PRIESTCRAFT. 


BY 

ISAAC KELSO. 

• u 


“Ah, you are there! Thanks, many thanks for having awakened us! But what 
do you want ? ” 

“ In the name of Liberty, give up your children — it is the divine right of the 
Clergy to instruct them.” 

“Be off, treacherous Jesuit! thou art an assassin — and com’st but to profane the 
holy name of liberty ! ” 


TENTH EDITION. 


CINCINNATI: 

H. M. RULTSON, QUEEN CITY PUBLISHING HOUSE, 

NO. 115^ M A I N S T It E E T, 

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Entered, according to act of Congress, in the year 1854, by 
ISAAC KELSO, 

In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the District of Ohio. 


Gift 

Judge and Mrs. Isaac R. Hftt 
July 3, 1933 



C. A. MORGAN & OO 

STEREOTYPES, 3 AND PUBLISHERS, 



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41 


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HAMMOND STREET. 


PREFACE. 


In the guise of fiction, and wearing the habiliments of 
romance, the following work is offered to the public ; but 
not without the hope that it may prove no less acceptable 
to the sober-minded and truth-loving than to the mere novel 
reader, who seeks in books nothing beyond amusement. 

To delineate the spirit, principles and tendency of anti- 
republican Romanism in this country has been the undis- 
guised aim of the Author. And this he has sought to 
do with the strictest fidelity to truth — nothing extenuating, 
nor setting down aught in malice. 

Though by no means an alarmist, the author would 
unvail the dark designs, insidious movements, and hidden 
policy, of the Papal Hierarchy, and at the same time bring 
to light the duplicity, craft and trickery practiced in our 
midst by the order of Jesuits — a brotherhood of pious 
assassins, the vilest and most despicable of our race ; who 
in every land, as well as our own, are the sworn enemies 
of civil and religious liberty. 

The crusade so lately led on by the Romish clergy 
against our admirable Free-School system, first suggested 
the thought of writing a book of this description. Con- 
vinced that vigilance is the price of liberty, and regarding 
fhe audacious attempt to subvert the American system of 
education as but a prelude to yet bolder attacks, if possi- 
ble, upon the free institutions of this Republic, and coming 


vi 


Preface. 


as it does, from a class of men who owe allegiance to a 
foreign despot, and bow to a master in Rome, the author 
has been led to feel that every true-hearted American is 
called upon, and should be urged to guard, with a con- 
stantly wakeful and jealous eye, the blood-bought heritage 
of freedom ! And the more since we have to do with a 
most formidable religious organization, whose object it is 
to tyrannize over the human mind, and stifle the very 
breath of liberty. 

In the estimation of some, it may appear almost arro- 
gance for one unknown to the reading public to write a book 
with the expectation of its being read, on a subject which 
has already been so elaborately discussed and extensively 
written upon by learned divines, and men of profoundest 
theological research. The author has only to say, by way 
of apology, that all the works on Romanism with which he 
has met, emanating from this respectable sourqe, are, (at 
least in his humble judgment), too elaborate, too abstruse 
and metaphysical to be relished by the many ; and there- 
fore public opinion yet remains far from being well informed 
upon the subject, notwithstanding the numerous volumes 
that have been given to the world for its elucidation. 

In this production, the author' has labored to combine 
the instructive with the entertaining — so as to render 
delightful a task which is usually reckoned irksome. In 
the use of the glass of fiction, and endeavoring to “hold 
the mirror up to nature,” he has aimed to reflect the 
images of truth, and to present them in the most vivid 
light and striking forms. How far he has succeeded in the 
attempt remains for others to judge. 


The Author. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. — The melancholy Hun — Her Soliloquy and repin- 
ings — Colloquy — The Superior of the Convent abruptly enters, 
having overheard heretical remarks and rebukes with severity — 
Thoughts on Nature and Reason. 

CHAPTER II. — A social Circle, in which the conversation turns 
upon Catholic Schools and Priestcraft — Protestant and Romish 
Institutions compared — Policy of the Hierarchy discussed. 

CHAPTER III. — Anna Maria Gerard — The bereavement — Grave- 
yard scene — The intruder — Jesuitical artifice — Conversion to 
Romanism — The engagement — Disclosure in the confessional — 
Priestly stratagem. 

CHAPTER IV. — An affair of the heart — Love’s trials — The work- 
ing of Superstition — Collusion — The forged letter. 

CHAPTER V. — Soliloquy of a Jesuit — Is interrupted by the en- 
trance of a Catholic Bishop — A conversation follows upon the 
prospects of the Church, and the policy necessary to success. 

CHAPTER VI. — Ceremony of taking the Vail — The Maniac. 

CHAPTER VII. — Enola’s adventure — The mysterious letter — Anna 
Maria becomes distrustful of Dupin. 

CHAPTER VIII. — Alonzo’s unhappiness — Becomes an Infidel and 
an Inebriate — The genteel spree. 

CHAPTER IX. — The conclave. 

CHAPTER X. — Political trickery — The Demagogue entrapped — 
Mr. Twist in a pucker. 

CHAPTER XI. — Frailty of a good resolution — Alonzo’s gloomy 
reflections — A scene in the St. Charles Coffee-house. 

( vii ) 


Contents. 


viii 

CHAPTER XII. — The shrewdness of insanity — The poisoned' 
Chalice — fiupin’s leap from a window — The Lunatic escapes 
from the Convent — Her singular Adventure — Conspirators pun- 
ished— The haunted cell. 

CHAPTER XIII.— Alonzo goes to the wilds of the West — Sojourns 
with a hermit— Learns his history— Profits by his advice and 
conversations. 

CHAPTER XIY.— A Jesuit outwitted— The disguise— Escape from 
the Convent — A priest in dishabille — Tragi-comedy. 

CHAPTER XV.— The discomfited priest in a fume — Secret session 
of an ecclesiastical council in the city of New York. 

CHAPTER XVI.— Early life of Dupin— His relationship to Bedini 
— Their boyhood associations in Italy — Immoral habits — Colloquy 
between Mr. and Mrs. Foresti. 

CHAPTER XVII. — How it happened that Dupin and Bedini got 
to be priests — The cause of their subsequent promotion — Mrs. 
Foresti dragged before the Inquisition — Suffers death for reading 
and concealing interdicted books. 

CHAPTER XVIII. — Bedini called from Brazil in disgrace — Re- 
established in favor with the Papal Court, by acting the Spy — 
Proves traitor to the Republic — Is guilty of the death of Ugo Bassi. 

CHAPTER XIX. — Alonzo hesitates to renew the engagement — 
Successful effort in reforming an Inebriate. 

CHAPTER XX. — Conversation on the propriety of forming a Pro- 
testant alliance — Encroachments of Popery — Priestly aggression. 

CHAPTER XXI. — Bedini, Nuncio to America — Finale of Dupin. 

CHAPTER XXII. — Anna Maria, Isadora and others, on a pleasure 
excursion to the far West — Peril — They visit the hermit of Wild 
wood-vale — Return to the Queen city — Connubial. 


DANGER IN THE DARK. 


CHAPTER I. 

The melancholy Nun — Her soliloquy, and repinings — Colloquy—* 
The Superior of the Convent abruptly enters, having overheard 
heretical remarks, and rebukes with severity — Thoughts on 
nature and reason. 

One rosy morning, in the smiling month of May, 
there might have been seen peering from the narrow, 
open window of a Convent, in a sequestered part of 
the Queen City of the West, a young female, in the 
guise of a Nun — with fragile form, and pale, attenu- 
ated visage. She would have made upon your mind 
the impression of faded beauty — though beautiful 
still. Her look was unhappy, dejected, and forlorn. 
Ah ! a rare, sweet flower was that, plucked by a cruel 
hand, and left to pine, wither and decay! Though 
deeply tinged, and daykly shaded with the hue of 
melancholy, her blanched face Was yet illumed with 
bright intelligence. In that speaking eye, and pallid 
countenance, was to be read the history of a crushed 
and broken heart! With an air of discontent, her 
■wandering gaze, ever and anon, swept over the con- 
tracted space left open to the view — which consisted 

( 9 ) 


10 


Danger in the Dark. 


merely of a little green plot, scarcely an acre in 
extent, fenced in by tall iron-railing, shaded by locust 
trees, and slightly ornamented with flowers. For a 
while she seemed drowned in a sea of forgetfulness ; 
and sat resting her elbow upon the window-casement, 
gracefully reclining her faded cheek on her lily hand ; 
then raising herself erect, and abstractedly bending a 
steadfast gaze on vacancy, began, in a feeble, soft, 
and plaintive voice, to utter audibly, the bewildering 
thoughts, that, like dark waves on the bosom of ' the 
deep, rolled heavily across her disconsolate mind — 
thus soliloquizing : 

“ ’Tis done ! repining cannot alter it. With vows 
most solemn, and binding upon my soul, have I 
abjured the world- — here within these cloister- walls, 
henceforth, to pass my allotted time on earth — devot- 
ing my life to religion! Religion?” she repeated, 
hesitatingly, u does religion require a sacrifice of all 
we hold dear ? Is it religion that calls me to a life 
of seclusion, austerity, and wretchedness ? What 
then, is religion? And whence cometh it, O heaven! 
if it be lawful to ask? Methinks, I hear a voice 
sweetly whisper — ‘Religion is a form divinely bright! 
a seraph of celestial birth ! 5 Can this be true ? And 
comes it to mortals to fetter the soul and imprison 
the body ; to shut out the light and beauty of earth, 
and make the way to heaven dark and difficult? 
Comes it to chill the warm affections, and paralyze 
the divine emotions which expand the human breast, 
and that elevate, refine, and ennoble our nature ? Is 


Danger in the Dark. 


11 


it the office of heaven-born religion to sunder the 
sweetest ties of friendship, and break the most sacred 
bonds of love ? Blasphemous thought 1 Are priests 
then in error, and has the infallible church gone astray ? 
And must I henceforth distrust my spiritual guides, 
who teach me that seclusion and penance are well 
pleasing to God, and promote the soul’s salvation ? 
Shall I no longer submit implicitly to the guidance of 
ghostly fathers, who have taken charge of my immortal 
interests, and to whom I have committed the care of 
my soul and the keeping of my conscience? But 
what is this that challenges my reason, and, unbidden, 
CQmes to rap at the door of my understanding? I 
must banish these vain, intruding thoughts — sugges- 
tions, it may be — of Satan, who seeketh my destruc- 
tion ! But, in spite of all, the question constantly 
recurs — why must I languish in this gloomy prison, 
that my spirit may bloom in heaven ? How inexpli- 
cable, that the soul must be crushed, the garden of 
the heart made desolate, bereft of every tender plant, 
sweet flower, and clustering vine, in order to enjoy 
saving grace, and in the world to come receive life 
everlasting ! 

“ These tender sympathies and natural affections 
that glow within my throbbing breast, did not the all- 
wise and beneficent Creator himself bestow ? Yet to 
secure his smiles, and merit his favor, they are to be 
uprooted and cast out ! And the imperishable mind — 
a bright jewel from the skies ! why should its luster 
be dimmed, its purest rays extinguished, in order that 


12 


Danger in the Dark. 


it may ascend to celestial climes ? Must I, then, be- 
lieve the home of the angels less brilliant than earth ; 
and that the moral and intellectual faculties are to 
deteriorate, and their capacity, life, and activity abate, 
when the mortal is separated from the immortal ? 
But alas! human reason is carnal — and the church 
bids me turn a deaf ear to its voice; Surely my heart 
is blind, my soul in peril! Fearful unbelief takes 
hold upon mine inmost thoughts — heaven help me 
to beware! deep darkness and mystery encompass 
me ! — Holy Virgin Mary, I invoke thee for light, to 
see and know my duty ! O, deliver my tempted soul 
from the snares of the evil one, and suffer me not to 
go down to perdition ! ” 

Oppressed with gloomy reflections, with doubts and 
superstitious fears, that hung like lead upon her heart, 
she clasped her feverish brain, as if to check the burn- 
ing current of her thoughts, and bowed her head in 
silence. After a short space, she lifted her eyes, beam- 
ing with spiritual light, imploringly to heaven, and 
with a subdued utterance, and in touching tones, she 
thus resumed : 

“O for a heart resigned to my allotment! Holy 
saints and martyrs, pray with me; blessed Jesus, 
vouchsafe thy most gracious aid ; and may all worldly 
thoughts, attachments and desires be taken away! 
* # * * Alas! alas! that recollection should e’er 
call to mind days that have fled — golden hours I fain 
would forget ! Enchanting scenes of other years, yet 
fresh and green on memory’s page, how they make 


Danger in the Dark. 


13 


me long to fly away from this dismal abode ! For, 
once was I happy ; silver-tongued hope whispered 
cheeringly to my glad heart ; the bright bow of promise 
spanned the future; loved and caressed by friends, 
lightly and gayly I walked the primrose-path of plea- 
sure ! But ah ! the opening flowers I seized even now 
have shed their bloom ; the rainbow’s lovely form has 
suddenly vanished. Farewell, sweet dreams of de- 
light! by penance, self-inflicted torture, and devoutly 
embracing poverty and wretchedness, I am to purchase 
heaven and escape the flames of hell. I must welcome 
the sufferings, the pains and miseries that save the 
soul, though they destroy the body. * * * * How can 
it be, yet I must believe it is, that God is best pleased 
with mortals when they render themselves the most 
miserable! Then is pleasure a sin, and enjoyment 
an offense unto him ! And then am I right in seek- 
ing to win the smiles of my Redeemer by renouncing 
the world, and shutting myself up in this dismal 
prison.” 

With a tremulous voice, the melancholy maid closed 
the final sentence; then drooping her head, buried 
her face in the white folds of her handkerchief, giving 
vent to the heart’s deep emotion in flowing tears. 

An inner door of the apartment occupied by the 
solitary recluse now gently opened, and a blooming 
girl of sixteen entered, who also wore the habit of a 
nun. Casting a look of mingled surprise and pity 
upon the weeping damsel, she said : 

“Isadora, come do talk some; you have been so 


14 


Danger in the Dark. 


silent to-day ! You know not how sad and lonely I 
feel ; and it makes me still more gloomy to see you 
so thoughtful and cheerless.” 

“Sister Helen,” replied Isadora, “I, indeed, could 
wish myself less thoughtful, less inclined to medita- 
tion : for my reflections are all unprofitable, and only 
serve to awaken feelings of discontent.” 

“It cannot be, Isadora, that you are growing w T eary 
of the convent, and tired of a life devoted to reli- 
gion ? ” 

“To own the truth, sister, my rebellious heart has 
almost breathed the wish that, in my career of plea- 
sure, I had never been hailed by those who cared for 
my soul.” 

“ Strange that you should feel so ! What has come 
over you, unhappy girl ?” 

“Alas! I know not.” 

“ Be not ungrateful to the holy men who have led 
you into the way of life and salvation.” 

“Truly, they have pointed me the way, a steep and 
thorny way, to heaven. I bowed submission; then 
came the winter of my soul ; a frost, a killing frost, 
fell upon the garden of my heart — that garden blooms 
no more ! Bleak winds have swept over it ; its beauty 
and its perfume are gone ; desolation reigns there, 
and naught springs up but sighs and regrets !” 

“You surprise me, Isadora! I thought you a most 
exemplary saint.” 

“Then were you deceived, my dear, greatly de 
ceived.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


15 


M How long, sister, since you took the vows V 9 

“ Almost two years ; and each day has seemed a 
year !” 

“ How then shall I, who have just taken the vail, 
ever expect to be more reconciled than now to this 
monotonous existence? I had hoped this dullness 
would wear away, and that time would cease to drag 
so heavily along; but you have quite discouraged 
me.” 

“Let me not dishearten you, Helen ; gladly would 
I throw sunshine and not shadows upon your clois- 
tered life. Come and sit you down by my side, loved 
one, and let us freely converse. Tell me why you are 
unhappy.” 

u The father-confessor told me,” said Helen, as she 
seated herself near Isadora, “I would find it such a 
charming and happy life to be a nun ! but by na 
means have I realized my anticipations. When a 
novitiate, I had so many privileges, and was so kindly 
treated I thought I should always love the convent ; 
but since I Ve taken the irrevocable vows, the scene 
has vastly changed : I no more can go out at pleasure 
to mingle with gay and cheerful friends; nor do I 
any more receive the kindly attentions I once did from 
the superior and the sisters of charity; indeed, they 
quite neglect me now, and treat me with cold indiffer- 
ence. But ’tis useless, I know, to indulge these 
unavailing regrets; the sacred vows having passed 
our lips they ne’er can be recalled. It may be, Isa- 
dora, that we have not subdued our proud rebellious 


16 


•. _ * 

Danger in the Dark. 

natures, as we should, by doing penance; we ought, 
perhaps, to deal more severely with ourselves ; there 
are those among us who seem content and satisfied 
in their condition ; then it may be possible for us to 
become so. Father confessor says, it is our imperative 
duty to be resigned.” 

“A nature such as yours, Helen, can never be 
reconciled to the cloister. True, there are natures 
that can ; your faculties are too active and vigorous ; 
they demand a wider, brighter, and more exalted 
sphere ! Dull minds and unreflecting capacities only 
can find contentment within convent walls.” 

“ Then you predict for me, a lifetime of inward 
conflict — a perpetual warfare within my own bosom — 
an undying struggle against a wayward heart and 
restless mind ? ” 

“ ’Tis needless to deceive you, Helen ; a soul like 
yours, will not, cannot, patiently endure chains and 
imprisonment ! To keep inviolate the monastic vows, 
which already hang so heavily upon you, will require 
a constant struggle with a rebellious nature, which 
only can be subdued by crushing your spirit, and tear- 
ing from your warm heart all that ’s lovely and lov- 
ing ! ” Saying which, she turned a look of tenderness 
on her young companion, gazing abstractedly upon 
her dimpled and glowing cheek, with which her own 
so strongly contrasted. 

“ Why, so earnestly, do you peruse my face, sister 
Isadora?” inquired * Helen in an affectionate and 
gentle tone. 


Danger in the Dark. 


17 


U I was but calling to mind, sweet girl, the days 
when the rose-tint decorated my own cheek, as now 
it does yours; and thinking — alas! ’tis a gloomy 
thought — how soon thine, will fade as mine! 5 ’ 

u The blighting effects you have here experienced, 
I can scarcely hope to escape. Well, if it prove bene- 
ficial to the- soul, and save me from the intolerable 
flames of purgatory, let •'beauty decay, and health be 
wasted ! The attenuation of the body is the purify- 
ing and exaltation of the spirit.” 

“So we are taught to believe, I know ; but if to 
doubt is sinful, then am I a sinner; nor will a lifetime 
in a convent, be likely to transform me to a saint ! ” 
“Beware, Isadora, I plainly perceive, in the direc- 
tion of your thoughts, an inclination to skepticism. ” 
“ It is even so ; but how to help it, I know not ; my 
wayward, straying mind, I cannot fetter. In spite of 
prayers, fastings, and self-denial, wild, wandering 
thoughts go out at will — and in vain I strive to tame 
them.” 

“ What can it avail us to be incarcerated within 
these walls, if we fail to subdue all worldly desires ? ” 
“ Naught, naught, w T ill it avail ! When as a token 
of my renunciation of the world', I received this sable 
vail, little did I imagine how typical it would prove, 
of the complexion of my fate, and the deep darkness 
that should ever after vail my heart and wretched 
life!” 

“It maybe, we are too carnal: let us double the 
number of prayers required of us, and be more given 


18 


Danger in the Dark. 


up to devotion : perchance, our faith may grow strong- 
er, so that we shall be able to overcome these wicked 
temptations and sinful repinings.” 

u My heart bears me witness, that I have faithfully 
striven to subdue the perversity of my fallen nature, 
This morning I rose at early dawn ; performed 
severe penance ; prayed fervently as I knew how — 
invoking saints and holy martyrs to bestow their 
gracious aid, and to intercede in my behalf. Then 
seating myself here by the window, I tried to give 
my mind to devout meditation : but then came vain 
imaginings ! While looking out upon that blooming 
shrubbery, and observing the little merry birds, gay- 
ly fluttering and sweetly singing among the green 
branches, the thought involuntarily came into my 
mind — happy creatures ! free to fly at will, and on 
your downy wings to cleave the bright and silvery 
air ; what delight ! what transports are yours ! while 
here is wretched Isadora, tied down by vows more 
weighty than iron chains, and stronger than bars of 
brass ! ” 

“ Ah ! ” sighed Helen, looking sorrowfully, “ what 
unlooked for temptations Satan oft puts in our way ! ” 

“In the midst of my reflections there caught my 
eye a bevy of fashionable young ladies, gliding by on 
yonder street: there seemed enchantment in their 
graceful movements, elastic step, lovely forms and 
gay attire ! and when their joyous tones and ringing 
laugh came floating on the 'air, what a thrill ran 
through my frame! my pulse quickened, my bosom 


Danger in the Dark. 


19 


heaved — then, for the moment, how I was tempted 
to fly from my prison ! But soon, recollection hurried 
me back to despair! The sad remembrance came, 
that my wings were clipped, and my pinions shorn by 
the religion I am taught to revere! Yet in vain I 
bid my soul be still ; my heart poured forth mingled 
sensations of anguish and delight ! so forcibly was I 
reminded of the time when, like them, I was happy, 
unfettered and free ! and with all my wishes freighted, 
merrily sailed on life’s silvery wave.” 

“ Isadora, I fear there was impiety in such thoughts.” 

“ If so, then never can I hope to be other than im- 
pious ! Irreligion, think you, in that we cannot help ?” 

“Our father confessor, you know, repeatedly ad- 
monishes us to erase from the mind every fond recol- 
lection of the world without.” 

“Yes, it would be well if we could banish from 
memory these gilded scenes of pleasure, that are no 
more to return. The purple sky of life’s smiling 
morn is now overcast by leaden clouds, on which 
the rainbow’s glow is never seen : let not, I pray you, 
my wicked, wandering thoughts lead thy pure mind 
astray.” 

“ ’Tis hard, I know ’tis hard to prevent the mind’s 
return to scenes once enjoyed — objects once loved.” 

“ But why should we deceive ourselves ? The ob- 
jects from which we try to imagine ourselves divorced, 
are yet loved, yet cherished, yet dear ! * * * # It 
may be unpardonable, Helen, and for aught I know, 
you may esteem me a vile heretic, but for my life, I 


20 


Danger in the dark. 


cannot help feeling, that there are errors, fatal errors, 
'that have crept into the mother church — however 
infallible it may be regarded. Even hated Protestant- 
ism is, in some of its features, superior, in my hum- 
ble estimation, to the Catholic religion.” 

u You startle me, Isadora ! ” 

“ Let me tell you wherein I incline to give Protest- 
antism the preference : Catholicism checks the gener- 
ous and noble impulses of the soul, and interdicts 
the highest and purest pleasures which the benevo- 
lent Creator has been pleased to confer upon mankind. 
The Protestant religion, on the contrary, forbids no 
rational enjoyment; it cherishes, as sacred, every ten- 
der kindred tie and affection that bind human hearts 
together — fostering an expansive benevolence, and 
all the noble and lofty sentiments that unfold within 
the human breast^” 

The lady abbess, having softly approached the 
threshold, chanced to overhear the last remarks of 
Isadora. Abruptly entering the room, she said, an- 
grily : “Ah! then you are turning Protestant — 
about to renounce the faith, I suppose, and become a 
heretic % ” 

“ No, no, St. Evangeline, judge me not so harshly ; 
no intention have I of renouncing the faith.” 

41 You’ll deny it, of course, to avoid penance, and 
being compelled to fast; what then do you mean by 
eulogizing Protestantism, and speaking in dispraise 
of the holy Catholic faith \ How can you presume, 
in this consecrated place of devotion, hallowed by 


i 


Danger in the Dark. 


21 


the presence of saints, to breathe sentiments so pro- 
fane, and fraught with such deadly poison ? I marvel 
that God, in his anger, did not smite you down ! 
Think of it, were you in Dome, and should dare to 
utter such things, your life would pay the penalty — 
and that by slow torture, upon the rack, or amid 
blazing fagots!” 

“Much reason, then, have I to be thankful that I 
live in a land of greater freedom, where such horrid 
cruelties are not tolerated.” 

“ Yet, infinitely better, no doubt, would it be for 
your poor soul, if there were less religious toleration 
in this country.” 

“None, but the most fiendish human monsters, 
could inflict such tortures as you speak of.” 

“ It is done only in kindness, and prompted by the 
purest love for the soul.” 

“I pray ever to be delivered from the embrace of 
such love; scarcely could savage barbarity equal it.” 

“Millions, no doubt now in heaven, bless the 
flames kindled by holy inquisitors, as the means of 
their salvation! for the fires that consumed theii 
bodies, conquered the infidelity of their hearts. All 
good Catholics pray that the time may speedily come 
when the church will have power to establish the holy 
Inquisition in America.” 

“Heaven forbid, St. Evangeline, that I should live 
to see that day !” 

“Well may such heretics as you say so!” 

“ Why is it, if you can, do tell me why, our reli- 


22 


Danger in the Dark. 


gion tends to oppress and burden, rather than to 
strengthen and sustain, frail and sinking human- 
ity?” 

“ See you not the shocking impiety of such a ques- 
tion ? Have not the presumption to attempt fathom- 
ing the deep mysteries of religion; nor presume to 
comprehend what God has hidden from our eyes. 
Lean not on your own understanding, and learn to dis- 
trust your faculties ; neither have any will of your 
own; look alone to your spiritual superiors, remem- 
bering, it is not your province to reason, but to exer- 
cise faith.” 

Waiting for no reply to her last remarks, the supe- 
rior hastened from the apartment; and the two young 
ladies were again alone. After some moments of 
silent meditation, Isadora observed : 

“St. Evangeline exhibits little of 4 that meek and 
quiet spirit, which in the sight of God, is of great 
price.’.” 

“It becomes not a saint to be angry.” 

“How unreasonably she denounced reason! Has 
the human soul a more exalted attribute? Why is 
this light kindled within us ? certainly, not to be extin- 
guished! Reason is heaven’s highest and best gift 
to mortals.” 

“ I think you not altogether in the wrong, Isadora; 
but I am a little apprehensive, you trust too much to 
reason and the light of nature, to occupy safe 
ground.” 

“ Deprived as we are of the Scriptures, we can 


Danger in the Dark. 


23 


hardly do better, than take nature for our bible, and 
reason for our guide.” 

“We are not, I admit, permitted to read the scrip- 
tures for ourselves.; yet the divine teachings thereof, 
are graciously imparted to us by the clergy.” 

“ I must think you will find yourself at a loss to 
tell why the book of God should be withheld from the 
people by the priesthood.” 

“ The only reason assigned, is, our incompetency, 
without priestly aid, to rightly interpret, and properly 
understand the word of God.” 

“That may be reason enough, but to my mind, it 
has never been very satisfactory. They would also 
have us believe that nature too, is a sealed book, that 
priests only can open.” 

“ Is it not so ?” 

. “Do we not everywhere find precious lessons of 
instruction in the great volume of nature? Does not 
the study of creation fertilize thought, and vivify the 
soul ? Look abroad upon the illimitable universe, 
and say whether it does not display the glory of God, 
and reveal to the heart much of truth and duty! We 
see the almighty power of Deity, in the immensity of 
his works; his infinite wisdom, in their vast variety, 
beauty, order and harmony ! And his unspeakable 
goodness, we behold in the adaptation of everything 
to beneficent purposes! Yes, the adorable attributes 
of the Creator are engraven on the works of his 
hands ; they are written upon the skies — : on the sun, 
moon, and stars ! And we may read profitable les- 


24 


Danger in the Dark. 


sons of wisdom, on every leaf that flutters in the 
breeze; every spire of grass, and opening flower that 
decorate earth’s green bosom ! Yet, shall we be told, 
it is wrong to study nature ? That it is, at once, a 
duty and a gracious privilege, will appear sufficiently 
evident from this — the study of -nature tends to 
purify the heart, as well as enlarge the mind, and 
invigorate its powers.” 

“Do you then apprehend, that we should likely 
find the teachings of nature always in harmony with 
the instructions of the church ?” 

“ To be candid, I must say, there seems to me no 
little discrepancy.” 

“There then, lies a valid objection to our attempting 
to interpret the book of nature.” 

“I will not argue that point; but let me now show 
you* wherein there appears, to my mind, a disagree- 
ment, between the indications of nature and the 
instructions we receive from the church.” 

“Well then, if you will, read me a chapter from the 
book of nature.” 

“From our little window here, we are able to see 
but a fragment, a torn, and a tattered leaf of the 
great volume of creation — nevertheless we may make 
out something : 

“Look now upon the deep green foliage, and deli- 
cate white blossoms that adorn those locust-trees ; and 
there to our right, you see a beautiful lilac, and here 
on our left, a crape myrtle ; immediately in front of 
us, there stands a bunch of roses ; and yonder too, are 


Danger in the Dark. 


25 


some violets, lilies, and variegated pinks: have they 
not all a language ? Unmistakably, they declare to 
us, that God delights in beauty and variety. If not, 
why has he made them so beautiful and so varied ? 
Why are they not uniform in color, shape, and tex- 
ture ? Why not all sable or drab ? But see what 
brilliant hues, how variously tinted, and delicately 
fringed and ruffled 1 Have human hands ever pro- 
duced anything so exquisitely wrought ? Here then 
is a lesson from nature.” 

“Well, does it not harmonize with our religious 
faith and practice ?” 

“By no toieans, as I conceive.” 

“Where is the discord V 

“We may perceive it, if we but look upon our- 
selves : in obedience to the commands of the church, 
we are clothed in perpetual black; our dresses are 
plain, and unadorned ; our dark caps, untrimmed by 
ribbon or ruffle, cover our shorn heads, without grace 
or comeliness ! The beautiful tresses, which nature 
hung about our temples, the rich, luxuriant hair 
which we once esteemed an ornament, have been sac- 
rificed to our faith: the church decreed it, and we 
submitted to the unnatural demand. Surely we have 
not followed the indications of nature nor reason in 
any respect ; for how unlike the flowers are we ! And 
how manifestly unlike, what the all- wise Creator in- 
tended we should be !” 

“Truly, you have strange conceits, Isadora; talk 


Danger in the Dark. 


of copying nature, and imitating the flowers in oui 
apparel ! Such attire would illy become saints.” 

“So it seems to us ; but only because we have been 
taught, that everything lovely, beautiful, and charm- 
ing, must be sacrificed at the shrine of religion ! I’ve 
sometimes thought, if priests could have a world 
made to order, for the dwelling-place of saints, it 
would be a sad world indeed — utterly comfortless, 
wrapped in darkness, and overgrown with thorns I” 4 

“How you talk !” 

“ See, Helen, yon fat old Quaker waddling down 
the alley ! His religion sits as easy on him as his 
shad-bellied coat. The complexion of Ms faith 
requires drab; while ours enjoins black. Had the 
Almighty consulted the Quakers in making the Uni- 
verse, what a drab-colored creation there would have 
been ! the rose never would have blushed ; birds never 
would have sung l” 

For the present, we take leave of the characters 
that have been introduced to the reader, and proceed 
to unwind another thread of our story. The youth- 
ful nuns, Isadora Norwood, and Helen Bower, whose 
acquaintance we have made, will be repeatedly 
brought forward in subsequent chapters. 


CHAPTER II. 

A social Circle, in which the conversation turns upon Catholic 
•Schools and Priestcraft — Protestant and Romish Institutions 
compared — Policy of the Hierarchy discussed. 

“I think it so strange, Mrs. May, to hear that Ara- 
bella is attending a Catholic institution !” said Mrs. 
Glenn, addressing a very fashionable-looking lady who 
sat next her. 

“It is not Jier choice, but mine responded Mrs. 
May. 

“ That is still more singular — that you, a Protest- 
ant, should prefer educating your daughter at a 
Romish school, indeed surprises me much !” 

“I cherish no religious prejudices, Mrs. Glenn.” 
u That is well ; I wish all the world could say as 
much. For my own part, I belong to no church — 
have never been identified with any religious denom- 
ination whatever ; but I cannot help regarding it as 
very inconsistent, and exceedingly injudicious, in 
Protestant parents, to place their children in the 
hands and under the influence of papists, for instruc- 
tion.” 

“How remarkable ! I can see nothing to be afraid 

of in Catholic schools. More than half the young 

(27 ) 


28 Danger in tiie Dark. 

ladies at St. Mary’s are of Protestant parents ; and 
many of them members of Protestant churches.” 

“Yes, I’m aware of that, — and lament it too.” 

“Where is the danger, Mrs. Glenn ?” 

“Ah ! that lies behind a curtain ; it is concealed in 
darkness. How many have we seen taken in the 
snare ! Yet so cautiously, adroitly and silently is it 
done, that few take the alarm.” 

“ Of course, it sometimes happens, that Protestant 
children become Catholics, by being educated in papal 
schools ; but parents who wish their daughters highly 
accomplished, and fashionably educated, are willing 
to run some risk, in conferring upon them advantages 
so great.*’ 

“But where is the necessity of such a risk % There 
are Protestant institutions, where every desirable 
accomplishment, and the most thorough education 
may be obtained.” 

“ But Catholic schools, you know T , are far superior.” 

“No, I admit it not; that is a sad mistake, into 
which, I am very sorry to say, numbers of Protestants 
have fallen. It has no foundation in truth ; and such 
an impression could have never obtained but for the 
vain boasting of Roman priests, who are, of all men, 
the most egotistical, arrogant and presumptious. Not 
only do they claim to have received the keys of the 
kingdom of heaven, and to possess power to open and 
shut at pleasure the celestial gates, but also to hold 
the key of knowledge ! If we are to believe them, 
they only possess true learning; and all educational 


Danger in the Dark. 


29 


institutions not under their supervision are worthless. 
Nay more, they are pronounced Godless, abominable, 
and ruinous to youth! Such is the language they 
hold. The truth is, the Catholic clergy are not gene- 
rally educated men.” 

“ Not educated men ?” 

<C I mean they are not liberally educated. They 
may have all learned to read Latin, and some of them 
English ; but they are not men of thorough and varied 
learning. I say what I know; for such have' been 
my opportunities, in relation to a knowledge of the 
clergy, and the extent of their scientific and literary 
attainments, that I’m prepared to speak advisedly 
upon the subject.” 

u Never before has any one heard it disputed that 
Catholic priests are men of learning ! Why it is 
given up on all hands they are the profoundest schol- 
ars in the world !” 

u I ’m fully aware that papists make such preten- 
sions, and the illiterate have not been slow to believe 
them. Many take for granted whatever is boldly 
asserted — especially if oft repeated. This may ac- 
count for the prevalent opinion as to the priesthood 
being so vastly learned. Protestants, having gene- 
rally so little opportunity for testing the education 
either of Romish priests or teachers, it is not so 
strange they should be deceived. That there are to 
be found among the clergy profound scholars is by 
no means doubted; yet for the. most part, preachers 
and teachers of the Church of Rome are exceedingly 


30 


Danger in the Dark. 


limited in their attainments, superficial thinkers, feeble 
writers, and unbearable bigots !” 

“How uncharitable !” 

“ Charity, Mrs. May, is not blind to gross errors 
and palpable wrongs ; especially when they are of 
such a nature as to prove highly mischievous to soci- 
ety, and involve vast numbers in wretchedness and 
ruin.” 

“Very true; but you certainly do injustice to pa- 
pists.” 

“I wish not to, but would rejoice to see popery 
become a blessing rather than a curse to the world ; 
and gladly would I bestow praise wherein I now 
blame; but when I see in that stupendous fabric a 
tendency to overshadow, crush, and destroy whatever 
is not like itself, I am inclined to regard it as a curse 
and not a blessing to the earth.” 

“Will you allow Catholics no credit — award them 
no honor, for building up schools and colleges in this 
country ?” 

“ The intention of these institutions, let me assure 
you, is not to confer on juvenile minds a liberal and 
useful education, but to instil the doctrines of Roman- 
ism. Disguise it as they may, their chief object is to 
make papists, not to unfold and enlighten the mind, 
as they would have us believe.” 

u That is bringing against Romanists a grave 
charge, Mrs. Glenn. If persuaded of its truth, I could 
not indeed conscientiously patronize their schools. 
But I must think you misled in your opinions, and 


Banger in the Dark. 


31 


perhaps a little prejudiced. Mr. Dupin, the priest 
who daily visits the St. Mary’s school, has repeatedly 
assured me that no improper means were used to influ- 
ence the minds of the young ladies attending the 
institution, upon the subject of religion*.” 

“ Yes, and thus they disarm you, and lull suspicion 
to sleep ; then taking advantage of your credulity, 
stealthily lead the confiding mind of your child out 
of the reach of parental influence into a miserable 
delusion. The errors they inculcate operate as a slow 
poison. We need not go beyond the circle of our own 
acquaintance to find examples of the sad consequences 
that not unfrequently attend the injudicious thing of 
placing Protestant children in the hands of papists to 
be educated. There, for instance, was Isadora Nor- 
wood, a charming girl, and possessed of an uncommon 
mind. I presume you remember her?” 

“Yes, perfectly well; she was an innocent, sweet 
girl. I was much astonished to hear of her taking 
the vail.” 

“ And so was her poor mother, who died of a 
broken heart soon after on account of it. Unconscious 
of danger, and contrary to Isadora’s will, that loving 
mother, four years ago, sent her daughter to the insti-i 
tution where Arabella now is. Two years from that 
time she was prevailed upon, by priest Dupin, to 
renounce the world and enter the convent for life. 
Indeed, soon after she. commenced her studies in the 
school, she was persuaded to become a novitiate, and 
to wear the white vail; and that without the knowl- 


32 


Danger in the Dark. 


edge or consent of her parents. One of the first les- 
sons taught in Catholic schools is secrecy ; hence very 
improper influences may be used without the knowl- 
edge of parents.” 

44 Such occurrences as that in relation to Isadora 
Norwood, I admit, are unfortunate ; but certainly they 
are rare.” 

“By no means rare; numerous instances of the 
kind have I known. And very recently have I learned 
that Helen Bower has taken the vail. You may 
know her also ; if I mistake not, her parents were 
members of your church.” 

“ Helen Bower ? can it be possible ! She belonged 
to my claps in sabbath-school. I knew she was at St. 
Mary’s awhile — but had no thought of her ever 
becoming a. Catholic — and much less did I dreaip 
of her taking the vail ! She was truly an interesting 
, little girl ; it has been several years, three or four at 
any rate, since I -saw her. It must greatly afflict her 
parents, for they doted on Helen ; her brothers, too, 
almost worshiped her.” 

“ The sundering of connections, and the most sacred 
ties that bind kindred spirits, are light matters in the 
estimation of unfeeling priests, who hold it a virtue to 
be insensible to all the agonies of this life, and the 
miseries of the present world ! ” 

“I can have no fears at all events, of Arabella’s 
being tempted to become a nun, — or even to embrace 
any of the Bomish doctrines.” 

“But none the further from danger is she, Mrs. 


Danger in the Dark. 


33 


May, on that account ; but rather, the less secure ; 
for being at rest upon the subject, you will be less apt 
to advise, and place her on her guard against the 
duplicity, and wily arts of Jesuitism.” 

“ Arabella, has been too well instructed in religion 
and Bible principles, to have her faith shaken by any 
artifice they may choose to practice; beside, she is 
too fond of fashion and pleasure to be a nun.” 

“ Constantly surrounded by such influences as Jes- 
uits know how to wield, you know not what effect 
may eventually be produced upon her mind. Though 
she should never become a papist, you must see that 
she is liable, and more than liable to have her mind 
poisoned, bewildered, and darkened by the errors and 
superstitions of Romanism. % Few understand what 
wonderful revolutions may be brought about, by slow 
degrees, in the human mind; and equally few com- 
prehend the unbounded influence that teachers may 
gain over their pupils.” 

While the above dialogue was in progress, a mis- 
cellaneous, and promiscuous conversation was going 
on in other parts of the room : but gradually the atten- 
tion of the company began to be attracted to the topic 
under discussion between Mrs. Glenn and Mrs. May. 
Fanny Willow, who had heard but little of what had 
passed, owing to the perpetual racket of her own 
tongue, chanced to catch some of the last remarks of 
Mrs. Glenn, so as to divine the subject of conversation : 
turning suddenly round she interrupted the talkers by 
saying, in a sharp, squealing voice, and on a strain- 

* 2 


34 


Danger in the Dark. 


ing key that ran through one’s head like the filing of 
a crosscut saw : “Do say, Mrs. Glenn, have you had 
the exquisite pleasure of making the acquaintance of 
the Eight Eev. Dr. Dupin ? ” 

“I Ve seen the fellow; ” replied the lady addressed, 
not altogether in her usual tone of civility. 

“Seen the fellow!” iterated Danny testily, and 
appearing quite shocked at the irreverence of Mrs. 
Glenn, “upon my word ! I thought you could appre- 
ciate character better than that* why, let me assure 
you, I esteemed it an extreme felicity, to make his 
acquaintance ! ” 

“A sprinkle, I imagine, of what the clergy call 
extreme unction ! ” 

“ What irreverence ! really you are sacrilegious, 
Mrs. Glenn ! ” 

“I respect all great and good men, Miss Willow; 
but as for your immaculate saint, Dupin, I can see in 
him nothing amiable, or praiseworthy, much less to 
reverence and adore.” 

“ La ! me ! Mrs. Glenn, how singular you are ! If 
there ’s a saint on the top of the green earth, allowing 
me to speak poetically, Mr. Dupin is one.” 

“ Talking of the green earth, Miss Willow, allow 
me to suggest there are some things greener than it.” 

“ I understand that insinuation perfectly ! It ’s not 
every willow that ’s green, let me tell you — there ’s a 
species called the golden willow — I have the honor of 
belonging to that tribe.” 

“ I discover you have red hair.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


35 


M I ’m well satisfied it ’s not green.” 

“ There ? s a peculiar color called invisible green.” 

“ There ’s no invisible green about me, I ’ll have 
7011 understand.”. 

“ True enough, its all visible — at least to the men- 
tal vision.” 

“ Thank you for the compliment ! I ’m fully con- 
vinced you ’re no judge of character, Mrs. Glenn. 
Everybody admits that the Pev. Mr. Dupin is a rare 
specimen of human perfection.” 

“ No doubt, such specimens of perfection are rare ! ” 

“ I wonder any one of good taste can help admiring 
his winning ways, and his solemn face, which has so 
much of heaven in its look l His very expression 
makes me think of eternity ! * * * * How it hap- 
pens that I’m such a favorite of his I never could 
tell — his partialities for me are very peculiar ! What 
a discerner he must be of character! And you’d 
better believe he ’s as sly and cunning as a fox ; he 
put me up to a plan of persuading young ladies away 
from the Protestant schools, and inducing them to 
attend the Catholic institution, that showed he knew 
a thing or two about human nature. I ’ve almost got 
Sally Tompkins in the notion of leaving the Seminary 
to go to St. Mary’s ; and if no mischief-making per- 
son interferes, I ’m quite sure she will.” 

“ It would be dreadful, should some mischief-maker 
have the temerity to interfere in the case, and prevent 
your success in such a charitable and praiseworthy 
undertaking; for certainly, to assist holy priests in 


36 Danger in the Dark. 

breaking up such ungodly institutions as Protestant 
schools, must be a commendable and pious work ! 
If George the third, in Byron’s Vision of the Judg- 
ment, could have urged his suit at heaven’s gate, 
with the recital of deeds so meritorious, doubtless he 
would not have had such a tussle to get in when the 
devil came thundering on in the rear.” 

“Well now I ’m no Catholic, but just think their 
religion ’s as good as any ; and it ’s mighty unfair that 
they should be so cruelly persecuted as Mr. Dupin 
says they are. For my part, I see no fault to their 
schools, all the girls in St. Mary’s academy are dread- 
fully pleased with their teachers. I have a niece 
there, who at first had a great aversion to being sent 
to a Catholic school ; she had heard so many hob- 
goblin stories about nunneries, dismal convents, and 
the horrible Inquisition, that the poor girl was nearly 
frightened out of her wits! But now she is in perfect 
ecstasy, and delighted with everything connected with 
the institution ! Iier mother has committed her to 
the special care of Bev. Mr. Dupin, whose guardian 
eye is perpetually turned to St. Mary’s ; young ladies 
brought up under the shelter of his spiritual wing 
cannot help being angels ! ” 

Squire Delmont, who had been listening some time 
in silence, at length grew impatient, and ventured, at 
the risk of giving offense, to fling in his dissent to the 
remarks of Fanny Willow. 

“ As likely,” said he, “ would the tender lamb find 
safety and protection under the vulture’s wing, as that 


Danger in the Dark. 


37 


an innocent and unsuspecting girl should be secure 
from harm, under the pinion of that corrupt and 
hypocritical Jesuit.” 

u Good gracious, Squire ! you can’t be in earnest ! ” 
exclaimed Fanny, with mingled surprise and indigna- 
tion. 

“ Why not ? ” 

“ I thought you claimed to be a free-thinker, and a 
man of no religious partialities !” 

“ Well, what of that ?” 

“ Why, I wouldn ’t wonder so much to hear you 
speak so if you belonged to some Protestant sect.” 

“With regard to the Bible, Miss Willow, I confess 
myself a skeptic. At the same time, however, I ’ve 
long been constrained to believe that Protestant Chris- 
tianity, whether human or divine in its origin, tends 
to improve our race, benefit humanity, and promote 
the virtue and happiness of society ; and deeply do I 
regret not being able to say as much for Romanism. 
With equal care and impartiality have I observed the 
fruits and watched the tendencies of that system. 
From all I can see and learn of Popery, I ’m com- 
pelled to pronounce it evil, and only evil ; every- 
where and always working mischief; at war with 
light and opposing liberty ! 

“ It is not because Dupin is a priest that I denounce 
him ; on quite different grounds do I distrust and 
detest the man. I ’ve abundant reason to believe him 
a villain ! I know his character, and long have 
watched his conduct ; he ’s a prodigy of iniquity, full 


38 


Danger in the Dark. 


of treachery, deceit, and all manner of baseness — 
more fit for the gallows than the pulpit! Tinder color 
of religion and love for souls, he has divided and well 
nigh ruined several families of my acquaintance ; to 
compass his ungodly ends, he has separated the best 
of friends, and kindled between them undying ani- 
mosities. And see how he is playing the sycophant 
with my neighbor, Mrs. Gerard ; ever since the death 
of her husband, which happened about a year ago, 
that crawling serpent has been busy working his pious 
meshes around the unsuspecting woman and her only 
child, Anna Maria, and aiming alone to get a grab 
at the large estate left in their possession. Already 
has he succeeded in getting the daughter into the St. 
Mary’s school, and now he is endeavoring to persuade 
the widowed mother to become a Catholic ; and also 
insists that it is her religious duty to abjure the world 
and devote the remainder of her life to prayer and 
penance. I took the liberty to admonish Mrs. Gerard 
that the wretch was only figuring for her estate, but 
she seemed unwilling to believe him actuated by any 
sinister motive, or any design other than a pure Chris- 
tian love for her immortal soul. 

“ Previous to entering the St. Mary’s Academy, 
Anna Maria was engaged to Alonzo Carleton, a noble- 
minded young man, who no doubt would have made 
her an excellent husband, a devoted, kind companion, 
and rendered her life happy. If Dupin does not suc- 
ceed in breaking the engagement, it will not be for 
the want of such an intention on his part, or the lack 


Danger in the Dark. 


39 


of persevering and desperate effort. Should Mrs 
Gerard become a recluse, which is not impossible, 
Dupin will be certain of some portion at least of her 
estate ; and if he can succeed in preventing the mar- 
riage of Anna Maria, she will most likely take the 
vail also ; then without a chance the entire estate, 
which is not less than a hundred thousand dollars, 
would pass into the hands of the black-hearted 
Jbsuit.” a 

During these remarks, Fanny Willow sat petrified; 
and Mrs. May looked not a little disconcerted. The 
latter observed, in a sarcastic tone, when the squire 
had finished : 

“ Some men, Mr. Delmont, wear magnifying glasses, 
and in their eyes molehills easily become mountains! ” 

“Very true, madam,” responded the squire, good- 
humoredly ; “ but does that prove there are no mount- 
ains'?” 

“It proves at least that the vision may be distorted.” 

“ There may be men who see monsters where none 
exist; but that should not deter others from going 
through the world with their eyes open.” 

“ I claim to know but little of Mr. Dupin, of whom 
you speak so freely; but I remember there is an 
admonition in the divine word against speaking evil 
of ministers.” 

“ The clerical garb, Mrs. May, does not sanctify 
the unsanctified; nor should it ever shield villainy. 
Wickedness ought to be condemned no less in priests 
than in people. Little do I trouble my brain about 


4:0 


Danger in the Dark. 


theological speculations ; the doctrines and creeds of 
men are, with me, light matters ; I ’m disposed to con- 
sider rather the lives and actions of my fellow-men ; 
and let me award praise or blame, irrespective of 
religious peculiarities and complexions of faith. ‘By 
their fruits ye shall know them,’ is the language of 
Christ. 6 A good tree bringeth not forth evil fruit ; 
neither doth a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit.’ 
This rule of judgment, whether given by inspiration 
or not, I try to adopt ; and am less careful, therefore 
to inquire what men believe than what they practice.’ 

“As you are aware, Squire Delmont, I have no 
belief in Romanism — yet I must allow there ars 
good people among Romanists.” 

“ That I do not a moment question ; for beyond 
the shadow of a doubt there are many, very many, 
pure-hearted and amiable-minded papists. The more 
honest and better class of Catholics never come to a 
knowledge, unless by accident, of the great wicked- 
ness and corruption of the priesthood. The pious 
frauds, stratagems, and intrigues, in which the clergy 
often engage, are carefully hidden from the eyes of 
such of their own brethren as are not to be made tools 
of, and who possess too much integrity and nobleness 
of nature to engage in deeds of darkness and perfidy.” 

“ I am willing to admit there are bad priests, and 
that some of them have been guilty of wicked con- 
duct; but still it is but justice to allow that their sys- 
tem of religion is accomplishing at least some good in 
the world.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


41 


“Not in this world, Mrs. May ; what it may do in 
the next, I pretend not to say, but confess myself 
unwilling to trust for salvation in another world, to 
that which works badly in this. Romanism is, and 
ever has been, an unmitigated curse; a blight and a 
mildew upon the earth; a pi ague-spot upon the bosom 
of Christendom ! it is a gigantic system of religious 
fraud, which has wrapped whole nations in darkness, 
and crushed the hearts and hopes of millions ! and 
Jesuits are its secret agents, whose business it is to 
work in the dark, and forge chains for the mind. 
They are the emissaries of the Pope of Rome, sworn 
to carry out his despotic aims ; they are everywhere 
traitors to God, and the enemies of mankind; to serve 
the Roman pontiff, they would blot out the sun, and 
enslave the world !” 

“Come now, Squire,” said a little, fat, bustling 
man, something larger than an apple-dumpling, and 
quite similar in figure, who had been dozing during 
most part of the preceding conversation, “ are we yet 
to believe all the ghost stories our grandmothers used 
to frighten us with when we were naughty boys ?” 

“You’ve certainly been dreaming, Mr. Wimple, 
and waked up before your nap was out,” replied Del- 
mont, facetiously. 

“Hold a moment — I want to know if you really 
believe any more in the tales about the Inquisition, 
the St. Bartholomew massacre — the torturing and kill- 
ing of heretics, than in old wives’ fables, haunted 
houses, witchcraft, or graveyard apparitions ?” 


42 Danger in the Dark. 

“It seems, then, you are disposed to place the 
superstitious fabrications of ignorant and idle brains 
on a footing with the most authentic and grave 
declarations of history !” 

“ I tell you, Squire, I believe such stuff about as 
much as I do the tale of Dr. Johnson’s Cock -lane 
ghost, or the thousand and one stories of the Arabian 
Nights’ entertainments 1 I ’m not one of your gulla- 
ble sort, Squire — they ’re welcome to impose on my 
credulity if they can.” 

^ “Are we not bound to accredit the united testi- 
mony of historians ?” 

“O pshaw ! I never read history.” 

“Your statements then, of course, will be good 
authority, as to events that happened before you were 
born.” 

“None of your irony — I’ve read some things, if I 
haven’t others — but always thought I could put in my 
time better, than in studying history.” 

“You put it in, perhaps, in perusing the celebrated 
work you have just quoted : the thousand and one 

_ 

stories of the Arabian Nights’ entertainments ?” 

“I must confess that’s a book I always liked to 
read, — but I never believed a word of.” 

“Now you don’t pretend to say, your credulity 
staggered so easily ! Disbelieving those marvelous 
tales, you learned to disbelieve all history ; well you 
are not so singular after all — there are thousands of 
minds constructed thus. But again to the subject: 
If Catholics have been falsely accused of intolerance, 


Danger in the Dark. 


43 


persecution and putting to death heretics and unbe- 
lievers, in the papal countries of Europe, then must 
it be acknowledged, the annals of the past, can in 
nothing be relied on. We might refer to Catholic 
authorities if it were necessary : I ’m prepared to 
produce works of high repute in the church of Rome, 
wherein popes and their councils are lauded for their 
zeal in exterminating infidels and heretics ; and the 
most barbarous and sanguinary deeds justified. It is 
not claimed by any accredited Catholic author, that 
the church of Rome ever tolerated freedom of opinion, 
and the right of private judgment in matters of reli- 
gion •, nor is it maintained she ought ; but the propri- 
ety of putting to death incorrigible heretics, is strenu- 
ously insisted on. Out of their owm mouths, then, 
and by their own pens, shall we judge, and condemn 
them.” 

“Are we to blame papists in this country, for what 
their brethren did in other lands and in other times V 1 

“No ; for that, we blame them not ; but rather for 
justifying their horrid deeds, in other lands and 
other times. In that justification, they admit the 
principle right ; and thereby virtually say, they would 
now, if they dared, even here, treat Protestants with 
like severity.” 

“O, but we all see that Catholics are becoming 
more liberal — no danger of their hurting anybody 
now-a-days.” 

“ It is the boast of the Roman hierarchy, that their 
religion is unalterably the same through all time ; that 


44 


Danger in the Dark. 


it is one and identical in spirit, doctrine and practice, 
in every nation — and that it hath been such, and will 
be such in every generation. Infallibility, with them, 
is a cardinal doctrine ; if right in that, it of course 
follows, there can be no reform, no improvement ; and 
it follows too, that the church has never been in error, 
nor committed a wrong. To be consistent, papists 
must justify all the church has ever done and defend 
the bloody Inquisition, and all the revolting cruelties 
enacted in the middle ages. If the persecution and 
slaughter of heretics were right centuries ago, why 
not still so ? But why refer to the past ? Romanism 
to-day, wherever it exists, is intolerant, proscriptive 
and persecuting to the extent of its power. What 
might we not apprehend, should papists ever become 
strong enough to control this government ? We need 
no prophet, nor the son of a prophet, to predict the 
result. To exterminate the opposers of the faith, 
would be but carrying out the principles inculcated by 
the church.” 

“Right or wrong, I’m one to stand up for the 
Catholics so long as they ’re persecuted.” 

“Yes, yes, we are cruel persecutors of the poor 
Catholics — because, forsooth, we will not allow them 
to put their feet on our necks ! A pure and genuine 
sympathy, I like to see ; it bespeaks a good and noble 
heart ; but there is such a thing as false sympathy : 
and we have some examples of it, in the profusion of 
tears poured out by a certain class of Protestants, in 
this country, for the mother church, especially just 


Danger in the Dark. 


45 


before elections. I know a class of men, who are all 
the while busying themselves to get up a feeling that 
papists are being trampled upon ; that they are badly 
used and are circumscribed in their privileges. These 
men have an object in view — but that object is not to 
promote justice and good-will : being a set of selfish, 
dishonest, renegade politicians, who have no other 
hope of climbing into office than by becoming fawn- 
ing sycophants, they think to ingratiate themselves 
with papists by this kind of maneuver, so as to 
obtain their votes. Those of us who refuse to flatter 
the pretensions of the Hierarchy and are unwilling to 
submit to priestly rule and dictation, are to be 
denounced by these demagogues, as uncharitable, 
illiberal and vile calumniators 1” 

“I take it, Squire, that all the churches are a little 
given to persecution when they have the power ; and 
I reckon Catholics are not worse than the rest.” 

“ Unquestionably, there is too much illiberality and 
a great want of charity among all sects ; yet the 
Catholic, is the only denomination in Christendom, 
that teaches persecution, and openly avows and defends 
the principle of religious intolerance. All Protest- 
ants unite in condemning the principle as wrong and 
foreign to the spirit of Christianity ; and often do they 
confess themselves at fault, in being betrayed into a 
spirit of persecution toward one another ; indeed it is 
common to hear them deplore a want of charity in 
themselves. Such being the case, there is a chance 
for correcting the evil; but in those who do not 


46 


Danger in the Dark. 


acknowledge it wrong, where is the hope of curing it? 
While papists are avowedly intolerant and syste- 
matically inculcate a spirit of persecution, I can see 
but little possibility of their outgrowing that barbarian 
principle of ill-will toward those who differ from us. 
When men get right in principle, they will after 
awhile come right in practice — but seldom without.” 

“If the Catholic clergy are the enemies of light, as 
you insist, why do they make such a parade about edu- 
cation ? To hear Mr. Dupin talk, you would think he 
was about to move heaven and earth, to have all our 
Protestant children educated ! ” 

“ Policy ! policy ! it is but a stroke of policy. Why 
do they not move heaven and earth to educate the chil- 
dren of papists! Look at the Catholic masses, how 
deplorably illiterate and benighted ! What better evi- 
dence than this do you want of the insincerity of the 
priesthood in their great parade about education, which 
they are making of late ? We shall find, I imagine, in 
the out-come, that there is more thunder than light- 
ning in their wonderful ado on the subject.” 

Mr. Wimple now manifested a disposition to change 
the topic of conversation, by making some remarks 
about the weather, and the probability of a warm 
summer ; Squire Delmont was inclined to be accom- 
modating, and readily consented to discuss the state 
of the weather: upon this innocent and unexciting 
subject, their minds grew calm, and in the utmost 
good feeling, the company separated, taking leave of 
each other with much agreeable ceremony. 


CHAPTER III. 

Anna Maria Gerard — The bereavement — Graveyard scene — The 
intruder — Jesuitical artifice — Conversion to Romanism — The 
engagement — Disclosure in the confessional — Priestly stratagem. 

Anna Maria Gerard, whose name has already been 
incidentally mentioned, was a most interesting girl — 
bright as a sunbeam, and sweet as a peach blossom ; 
and was just budding into womanhood. She had 
from childhood manifested rare amiability of disposi- 
tion, and more than ordinary intelligence. It was 
quite impossible not to love her — so angelic was the 
temper of her mind, and so soft, so gentle, so win- 
ning, her manner. And how perfect in form ! beau- 
tiful in feature ! and graceful in action ! But I will 
not say Anna Maria was faultless: conscious of pos- 
sessing rare personal charms, she grew a little vain, 
sought admiration, and delighted to mingle in the 
gay circles of fashion. She was an only child, and 
had been from infancy the cherished object of pa 
rental affection. Though not trained to piety, Anna 
Maria was by nature devotional ; nevertheless, gene- 
rally volatile and fond of pleasure. Her parents 
being of no religious persuasion, their associations 
were chiefly with the people of the world, and when 
they attended church, it was only as a matter of form. 


48 


Danger in the Dark. 


Having been fortunate in business, Mr. Gerard had 
acquired considerable wealth : consequently, at his 
death, which occurred in the meridian of life, and in 
the fourteenth year of Anna Maria’s age, his wife and 
daughter were left in possession of a handsome estate. 
*##### 

Hot many days after the decease of Mr. Gerard, 
the disconsolate widow and daughter, wearing the 
weeds of mourning, were seen directing their course 
slowly and silently toward the cemetery, whither had 
been conveyed the cold form of him who had been 
their comfort, protector, and guiding-star in life. 

The* burial-grounds were shaded, chiefly, by maple, 
and other forest growth. It was on a lovely afternoon 
in autumn ; the air w T as calm, and all nature serene. 
The yellow leaves were quietly dropping upon the 
graves of the sleepers, as if strewn by spirit-hands 
for the tenants of the tombs. 

With measured pace and velvet foot-fall, as though 
fearful of marring the repose of death, the sad hearted 
mother and her weeping child approached the urn of 
the departed, and bowing their heads, bedewed with 
pearly tears the cold marble that marked the resting- 
place of the lamented husband and father. 

It was a scene for angels to behold ! Who would 
have thought that the mortal lived wdio could look all 
emotionless upon that touching picture ? Yet there 
was one — a Jesuits eye, peering through the lat- 
tice of an iron gateway leading into the inclosure, 
regarded the weepers — it was the eye of priest 


Danger in the Dark. 


49 

Dupin. He cast upon the bereaved not a look of 
tenderness and pity, but a sordid, avaricious leer. 
“ Ah ! a widow, no doubt ! and daughter, it may 
be ; ” soliloquized the priest ; “ that costly marble,” 
continued he, “ on which they recline, indicates 
wealth ; the poor do not honor their dead thus. What 
may not a Jesuit dare ! True, I may fail — but if so, 
so be it ; I ’ll make the attempt — a most auspicious 
moment to seal an impression ! for when the heart sor- 
rows for the dead, and the eyes are dim with weeping, 
then will the voice of a priest be heard, and the 
soul turn with eagerness to offers of salvation. I ’ll 
go and administer spiritual comfort — whether of 
Protestant faith, or no faith, it matters little — it’s 
not in the nature of woman, to turn away from reli- 
gious appeals in the presence of the dead.” 

While thus talking to himself he had opened the 
gate, and was proceeding toward the two females, on 
whom he was resolved at all hazards to try his Jesu- 
itical arts. 

The sound of the intruder’s footsteps, as he drew 
near, arrested the attention of Mrs. Gerard, who turn- 
ing quickly round, was astonished to behold, standing 
before her, a stranger in prifestly garb and with face 
not unlike a tombstone. 

“ Pardon, dear souls,” said he, at the same time 
bowing himself almost to the earth, “I entreat you 
pardon my intrusion: I am one whom sorrow and 
sighing attract: by a divine impression, have I been 
led into this dwelling-place of the dead ; some myste- 


50 


Danger in the Dark. 


rious voice whispered me — ‘go and comfort the widow 
and orphan, whom you will find weeping among the 
tombs ; 5 in obedience to that voice have I come 
hither ; and on my way I saw a vision ; — it was of two 
females, clad in suits of woe and looks of grief — sor- 
rowing ones — my mission is to you. Beneath that 
house of marble, some dear one lies ; your hearts are 
with him there in the grave ! But come away ; his 
fate is sealed — 5 tis time to mourn for yourselves . 55 

Saying which, he pointed mysteriously toward 
heaven ; then making the sign of the cross, walked 
away. Anna Maria and her mother stood speechless 
and amazed ; scarcely able to decide whether they had 
seen a goblin or a veritable man of flesh and blood ! 
At length regaining the power of speech, Mrs. Gerard 
exclaimed: “Will he not return and tell us more? 
Maria, follow him, and entreat that he speak with us 
further. What could he mean? Wait, he is re- 
turning . 55 

“Ma, I have a horror of him ; 55 said the daughter, 
trembling and turning pale, “he looks like a con- 
jurer . 55 

“Say not so, my child ; he’s a priest, and may be 
a good, holy man ; it seems a supernatural impression 
directed him to us — how strange that vision he told 
us of ! 55 

“See how be bends his eyes to the ground as he 
walks ; Ma, maybe he 5 s only trying to frighten us . 55 

“Nonsense, Maria! what motive could the man 
have for such a thing? Hark, he’s praying to the 


Danger in the Dark. 51 

Virgin Mary ; when he comes a little nearer I will 
speak to him.” 

“Do not, mother, let ns go away.” 

“No, we ’ll stay till he comes ; I must know what 
he means; fear nothing — a praying man will not harm 
you.” 

“A wizard might.” 

“Say no more; I’ll now speak to him: Tell me, 
thou man of God, what signified your words — ‘his 
fate is sealed !’ didst thou refer to my husband ?” 

# “Verily.” 

“ Canst thou divine his fate ?” 

“That can I, by the assistance of the Holy Virgin 
Mary; whom, day and night I invoke.” 

“Then say, if thou knowest, whither has flown his 
departed soul ?” 

Turning his eyes with a horrifying expression upon 
the grave of her husband and regarding it fixedly, as 
if his gaze penetrated the solid marble, he said, in a 
sepulchral, doleful voice: “In the deep caverns of 
hell, wrapped in curling flames, writhes his soul in 
unspeakable agony !” 

Then glancing at the countenance of the lady, to 
see what effect his words had produced, he readily 
perceived the last maneuver staggered her credulity, 
and that he had piled on the agony a little too strong ; 
tacking about, as a Jesuit knows how, he began 
speaking comfortable words to her, — expressing great 
solicitude for the salvation of herself and daughter, 
and giving her assurance that, by the saying of mass, 


52 


Danger in the Dark. 


he could, after awhile, deliver the soul of her husband 
from the torments of purgatory. He begged the 
privilege of visiting them at their residence, on a 
future occasion, that he might have further opportu- 
nity of recommending to their consideration, the holy 
Catholic faith. 

With some hesitancy, Mrs. Gerard granted him 
permission. Then with expressions of gratitude to 
heaven, for the hope of doing good and effecting the 
salvation of souls, he left them to their meditations, 
and went away. • 

######*# 

On the following day, Priest Dupin visited the 
residence of Mrs. Gerard; but was coolly received 
and regarded with evident suspicion. Quickly perceiv- 
ing this, he grew reserved and circumspect in his con- 
versation. 

So well did he now dissemble, and with such 
apparent earnestness manifest sympathy on account 
of their late bereavement, that he failed not to pro- 
duce a more favorable impression, in his own behalf, 
upon the mind of the disconsolate widow. He pre- 
vailed on her, after many solemn and touching 
appeals, to allow him the privilege of saying mass 
for her deceased husband ; and he also obtained from 
her the promise, that herself and daughter would 
occasionally attend public worship at his church. 

After he had taken his departure, Anna Maria 
observed to her mother: “ The presence of that 
mysterious personage, Ma, produces upon me singular 


Danger in the Dark. 


53 


sensations ; I know not how to account for my aver- 
sion to him, unless there be something wondrous 
wicked in the man ; nor do I feel right about his say- 
ing mass for my father.” 

“ Why, child, it can do no harm, if it effects no 
good ; but you know not what beneficial influence 
such a ceremony might have. Religion is a mystery, 
and as such, we should not pretend to comprehend it; 
and it is something, perhaps, we have too long neg- 
lected. His argument seemed indeed plausible — that 
there can be but one true church ; and if so, that one 
must be the Catholic.” 

“ Ma, I cannot help feeling that that man may have 
some design upon us.” * 

“ Do not indulge such strange fancies, Maria ; there 
can be no foundation for any apprehensions of that 
sort.” 

“How happens it he has become so wonderfully 
interested in us — entire strangers as we are to him — 
never even having visited his church?” 

“ Dear one, that is by no means remarkable. He 
is a priest, wholly devoted to religion ; his only con- 
cern is to save souls ; and if we have souls to save 
why should he not be interested in us ?” 

“I’d be sorry to depend on such a horrid, haggard- 
looking mortal as he is for salvation ! Some people, 
Pa used to say, expect to go to their preachers, rather 
than their Saviour, when they die. Well, when I wink 
out for the other world, I ask leave to go to somebody 


54 : Danger in tiieT Dark. 

better favored than Du pin ; I ’d as soon risk going to 
old Scratch l” 

“ Maria, it is certainly the first time I ever saw' 
you show a suspicious disposition toward any one ; I 
always thought you too unsuspecting, too confiding .!” 

“ I know not why it is, but it seems to me I plainly 
read deceit- in the face of that priest; hypocrisy shows 
itself in the very tones of his voice.” 

“ Come now, that ’s only conceit — nothing more 1” 
“ It may be so ; but I can’t help my feelings.” 

“ Mr. Dupin' is not a handsome man, but he may be 
a good one.” 

tc ’T isn’t every ugly man that ’s good.” N 

“Very true; we should be blessed with no small 
amount of goodness in this world if that were the 
case.” 

###### 
Notwithstanding Anna Maria’s aversions, her 
mother prevailed upon her to attend the Catholic wor- 
ship. Being naturally, as has been before observed, 
devotional in the tendency of her mind, she was 
readily affected and deeply impressed by the imposing 
ceremonies that characterize the public services 
in papal churches. This means, together with the 
frequent conversations of Dupin, urging the neces- 
sity of their embracing the Catholic faith, finally 
won over both mother and daughter to that system ; 
though it was a considerable length of time before 
they united wdth the church. The designing priest 


Danger in the Dark. 


55 


had all the while been perseveringly trying to induce 
Maria to go to the St. Mary’s Academy ; it was 
nearly a year, however, from the time he commenced 
his importunities, before he effected his object in that 
respect. 

In the meantime Anna Maria had received the 
attentions and won the heart of Alonzo Carleton — a 
young man worthy of her hand, and to whom she 
solemnly plighted her faith. 

After Maria had connected herself with the church, 
the sycophant Dupin, who constituted himself her 
confessor, took advantage of the confessional to elicit 
from the unsuspecting girl all the secrets lodged in 
her innocent bosom ; and among other things she dis- 
closed the fact of her engagement to Alonzo Carleton. 

This her confessor at once resolved on defeating, if 
it were in the bounds of possibility and compass of 
his power. But fearing the effect of decided and open 
opposition, he determined on a more sly and secret 
interference. Without expressing the least disappro- 
bation, or intimating the slightest objection to the 
union, he advised procrastinating it a twelvemonth ; 
assigning sundry plausible reasons — the unfinished 
state of her education, want of age, experience, etc. 
This advice was not unpalatable either to Anna Maria 
or her mother, as no time had yet been fixed upon for 
consummating the marriage; but upon the heels of 
this advice, the priest enjoined what seemed less rea- 
sonable and far less agreeable, which was, that Maria 
should not see Mr. Carleton, nor have any corres- 


56 


Danger in the Dark. 


pondence with him, for a term of months — alleging 
that her spiritual interests and the wants of the soul 
required it. 

“ That you may have a good and sufficient apol- 
ogy,” said Dupin to Maria, in the presence of her 
mother, “ for not seeing Carleton during the time 
appropriated to pious discipline, it will be better for 
you to shut yourself up in the convent and wear the 
white vail, which is the badge of novitiates. I will 
pledge myself to satisfy your adored Alonzo that you 
will see him after a few short months, and be ready 
to fulfill your engagement.” 

Maria at first positively refused to comply with the 
request of her confessor. But Dupin strenuously 
insisted that such a course of spiritual exercises was 
absolutely essential to the salvation of her soul ; and 
if she would not discharge the duty he must give her 
up as lost. “ If you have not,” said he, “ even this 
small amount of self denial, tell me so, and I will pray 
no more for you, neither again grant you absolution.” 

“When will you have me go, father-confessor \ ” 
inquired she, sorrowfully and in a tone of penitence. 

“ To-day,” responded the priest. 

“ Shall I not be permitted to see Alonzo first ?” 

<c ’T is not needful ; nor would it be well for you 
to do so.” 

“ Not allow me even a parting word ?” 

“Better not; I ’ll make for you all necessary apol- 
ogies.” 

Urged by her mother as well as the priest, Maria 


Danger in the Dark. 


57 


at length yielded ; immediately made preparation, 
and accompanied Dnpin to the convent — received the 
white vail, and commenced the spiritual exercises 
prescribed by her confessor, which consisted in fast- 
ing ; repeating over and over a certain form of prayer ; 
wearing beans in the shoes, beating the body with 
small cords, and various other methods of subduing 
sin and overcoming the devil. 

4 


CHAPTER IS. 


An affair of the heart — Love’s trials — The workings of supersti- 
tion — Collusion — The forged letter. 

The unexpected disappearance of the object of his 
affections, and the manner of it, much amazed Alonzo 
Carleton, and stung to the quick his proud and sen- 
sitive soul. And to learn that his adored Anna 
Maria was at last brought completely under the bane- 
ful influence of a Jesuit whom she once despised, and 
himself cordially hated, he could not but feel that she 
was irrecoverably lost, and given up to a fatal delu- 
sion. Meditating upon the event, in a dejected and 
melancholy mood he thus soliloquized : 

“ She is lost ! Alas ! my fair one is lost! — lost to 
her friends, to society, and to herself; lost to the 
world and to me ; lost to happiness, to usefulness ; 
lost to a life of active benevolence, for which her 
generous heart and noble nature so eminently fitted 
her! Influenced by an intriguing Jesuit, she has for- 
gotten the pledges of her love, and been led, blind- 
fold, into the mazes of an absurd, stupefying and 
soul-withering theology !*.*•* If of her own ac- 
cord she had cast me off thus, I could turn from her 
in proud disdain, and blot her image from my heart! 

But ’t is not so ; ’t is not her own but another’s fault ! 

(58} 


Danger in the Dark. 


59 


Priestcraft and a bewildering superstition have trans- 
formed her nature — made her what she was not! 
***** Ah ! I ’m not wont to cherish hate, but I 
swear to be revenged on the vile serpent that infused 
the deadly poison into her innocent mind ! He shall 
rue the day he thought .to win her from me ! * * * * 
* But there hangs about it a mystery — an inexpli- 
cable mystery ! I ’ll go and see Enola Glenn ; she, 
perhaps, understands Maria better than I do, and 
may be able to conjecture, with greater probability of 
hitting the mark, the real cause of this freak, and 
what it will likely end in.” 

Enola was a relative of Carleton’s and daughter of 
the Mrs. Glenn introduced in our second chapter, in, 
conversation with Mrs. May. She was a young lady 
of uncommon sagacity, and extensive reading ; she 
was the particular friend of Anna Maria, and had been 
her intimate associate, until the latter entered the 
Catholic school, where her privileges and social inter- 
course were restricted. 

##-*####* 

When Carleton informed Enola of what had hap- 
pened and the trouble it gave him, she expressed no 
surprise, but remarked : 

“I’ve been anticipating something of that sort, 
Alonzo, but couldn’t divine exactly what kind of a 
trick Dupin would resort to, to alienate Maria’s affec- 
tions and draw off her attachment from you ; but I 
well knew he would fall upon some scheme, to thwart 


60 


Danger in the Dark. 


your matrimonial intentions. He’s too well acquainted 
with human nature, to make an undisguised attempt 
to prevent your marriage with Anna Maria ; he knew 
it would be a much less difficult matter, to persuade 
her to a temporary separation from you, than to an utter 
abandonment at once of the notion of matrimony; 
and he knew also, that an ultimate separation would 
be more easily effected after several months’ absence, 
and having her mind all the while absorbed in the 
mummery she is advised to practice during the period 
of her seclusion.” 

“ Think you, he will aim to lead her on to take the 
monastic vows ?” 

4 “I have not a doubt, that such is his intention; 
but that he ’ll keep carefully hidden both from Maria 
aud her mother, till, in his estimation their minds 
are prepared for it. There is a power in Romanism 
to infatuate, which they little comprehend.” 

“I fear it,” said Carleton, with a troubled air and 
a look of deep concern. 

“ But there’s no help for it, Alonzo ; it ’s quite im- 
possible for any Protestant to have access to her, 
where she now is, either in person or by letter.” 

“If I could have had a chance of reasoning with 
her before she went, I’m sure she would not have 
complied with Dupin’s request.” 

“He evidently had fears on that score — hence he 
urged her to go immediately — and that even, without 
a chance of bidding you farewell.” 


Danger in the Dark. 61 

“While in reality, she is coerced into measures, 
she is made believe that it’s all voluntary on her own 
part.” 

“Yes; the clergy sternly deny any compulsion 
being used in such cases — yet wherein does it differ 
from compulsion ? The deluded victims are pointed 
to a burning hell, and told that implicit obedience to 
the commands of the priesthood alone, can save the 
soul from its quenchless and torturing flames. Had 
Dupin employed physical force in dragging Maria to 
the convent, to suffer penance and endure the miseries 
to which she is there subjected, it would have been an 
outrage of no greater magnitude, than what he has 
committed, in terrifying her, by threats of perdition, 
into a compliance with his nefarious wishes.” 

“Actions are not always voluntary when they 
seem to be : we sometimes feel* that we are acting 
freely, when at the same time it is by sheer con- 
straint.” 

“I’m unable to conceive anything more iniquitous 
and unpardonable, than the leading of young girls, 
by operating on their superstitious fears, to bury 
themselves in a convent, where they are to pass their 
days in gloomy seclusion and wretchedness — torturing 
and attenuating their bodies to fit their souls for 
heaven ! We talk of the cruelties of the Inquisition 
in the dark ages of the world ! while, in reality, there 
is being practiced a species of cruelty, in the convents 
of this country, though more refined in its char- 
acter, yet no less enormous ! And it only adds 


62 


Danger in the Dark. 


to the enormity of the system, that the minds of its 
hapless victims are made to feel that their sufferings 
are voluntary and self-inflicted.” 

“ Should that infernal Jesuit induce Anna Maria to 
take the black vail and become a recluse — midnight, 
will be sunshine to the color of his fate ! — I ’ll be his 
inquisitor — that ’s all !” 

“Do nothing rashly, Alonzo — the laws of this 
country, you know, protect the priesthood in prac- 
ticing duplicity, using Jesuitical arts and imposing on 
the credulity of whomsoever they may be able to 
bring sufficiently under their papal influence.” 

“Yes; and as well might the law protect bandits, 
murderers and assassins l” 

“True.” 

“Do you know, Enola, what has become of Ara- 
bella May ? Was she not in the St. Mary’s Academy?” 

“Yes; and is still there — and that too, contrary 
to her mother’s wishes.” 

“Why, I thought Mrs. May was a great friend to 
Catholic schools!” 

“So^she was — but is now becoming alarmed, for 
fear Arabella will become a papist — she thinks they 
have used an undue influence to impress her daugh- 
ter’s mind with the superstitions of the Romish faith ; 
but with no avail has she been trying to induce her to 
quit the institution.” 

“Alas ! what can overshadow the human mind and 
shut out from the soul the serene light of heaven, 
like false religion !” 


Danger in the Dark. 


63 


Carleton’s interview with Enola gave no relief to 
his oppressed feelings, but rather served to increase 
the gloomy apprehensions which had before preyed 
upon his mind. 

#*####*# 

Separated from him she loved, and associated with 
uncongenial spirits, Anna Maria was unhappy, rest- 
less and discontented : days, weeks and months passed 
tardily by — but still, situated as she was, the dark 
cloud of superstition was by degrees gathering and 
thickening upon the sky of her mind. Persuaded 
that the austerity she practiced, tended to spiritualize 
her nature and purify the soul, she dealt most severely 
with herself ; and began to regard every element of 
enjoyment, as opposed to a religions life, and every 
pleasure, a source of temptation, endangering the 
soul’s salvation ! Therefore she turned away from all 
that appeared delightful and cheering, and sought to 
wed herself to misery. 

Before the expiration of the period assigned her for 
consecration, an epidemic prevailed in the city, sweep- 
ing its hundreds into the grave. Among the number 
that were hurried from the stage of action, were Mrs. 
Gerard, Anna Maria’s mother, and the parents of 
Arabella May. When the sad intelligence of her 
mother’s death reached the ears of Anna Maria, it had 
the effect to increase the melancholy state of her 
mind ; the strongest tie that bound her to earth being 
now broken, she was more than ever inclined to seclu- 
sion, a life of self-denial, austerity and gloom. 


64 


Dangeis in the Dark. 


Availing himself of the mournful event, and the 
deep affliction thereby brought so suddenly and 
unlooked for upon Maria, Dupin directed her thoughts 
to the contemplation of abjuring the world : this, he 
at first imagined, would be an easy task ; but when it 
came to the test, he found there was yet another link 
that held her fast to a carnal world ; that was a golden 
link of love, binding her heart to one she had striven 
in vain to forget ; in spite of her superstitious efforts to 
crucify her affections, they yet fondly clung to Alonzo. 

To carry out his nefarious purpose, Dupin saw it 
would be necessary to extinguish, in Maria’s bosom, 
this undying flame. Concluding that the end justified 
the means, lie conceived the design of forging a letter 
in the name of her lover. “I ’ve hit upon it! ” said he 
to the superior of the convent, u I have in my posses- 
sion yet, that abuseful letter which Carleton addressed 
to me some months ago — I ’ll imitate his handwriting 
so that this girl shall think it’s the same ; I can do it 
with but little trouble, for I’ve played such games 
before ; and by to-morrow, Anna shall receive a love 
note that ’ll make her love to hate ! or else I ’m much 
mistaken ; and you must convey it to her — saying 
Carleton gave it to you with his own hand. We must 
fail not in this, for Anna Maria is heir to a large 
estate. If she takes the vail to become a recluse, I 
can easily manage to have her property fall into our 
hands ; but should she marry Carleton, as she is 
inclined to do, and has promised, why all my plane 
must fall to the ground ! ” 


Danger in the Dare. 


65 


“Well devised !” replied the Abbess, “the scheme 
will succeed ! But in case it should fail, we can give 
her a quietus, you know.” 

“No, that wont do in this case ; I never can reach 
her estate unless she voluntarily makes it over to me. 
Beside, it wouldn’t do for her to disappear under 
present circumstances ; there are jealous eyes turned 
upon us — I know not what it may end in; but we 
want no storm raised over our heads ; the only safe 
way, is to work upon Maria’s mind — and goad her 
on to take the irrevocable vows.” 

“ Prepare the letter then, and let me deliver it to 
her ; I think I can do it in a manner that will leave 
no doubt upon her mind, that it was written by 
Carleton himself.” 

So he went to work, and on coarse paper, wrote 
most scurrilous things, employing low, vulgar, and 
disgusting epithets, and concluded by pronouncing 
the bitterest curses upon her soul, and the religion 
she professed ! Then sealing it, he indorsed the 
name — Anna Maria Gerard. The Abbess, taking the 
note, proceeded to Maria’s lonely cell, situated in the 
most obscure part of the building, and approaching 
her, blandly said: “Dear Anna, I’ve just received 
from the hand of Mr. Carleton, a letter — I suppose, 
of course, an affectionate letter, addressed to you. 1 
have thought proper to depart from our usual custom 
in such cases, and present it to you with an unbroken 
seal, believing, as I have reason to, that it would be 

more agreeable to your feelings to receive it thus.” 

5 


66 


Danger in the Dark. 


With trembling hand and palpitating heart Maria 
took the letter. The Abbess, turning away, left her 
to peruse it alone. 

*#*### 

Not many minutes after the unhappy girl had 
received the offensive missive, Dupin entered her 
apartment and found her convulsively weeping. 

“What now, dear child?” inquired he most ten- 
derly, putting on, as far as a villain can, a look and 
tone of innocence, “ tell me the cause, loved one, of 
these sobs and tears.” 

When able sufficiently to compose herself, she said 
with a faltering voice : “ Alas ! my unkindness and 

neglect have changed a heart once pure and loving, to 
malignity and baseness ! Alonzo has become a fiend, 
and it was I that made him such ! ” 

“ Reproach not yourself, my angel — that Carleton 
is a vile heretic — and mark my words, he will yet 
teach you to despise him. Is that letter from him ? ” 
“His name signs it, and she who brought it to me 
said Alonzo Carleton gave it to her. 

“Let me see what the wretch has dared write 
you ; ” saying which, he picked up the letter, which 
had fallen from Maria’s trembling hand to the 
floor ; tracing the lines with an expression of indigna- 
tion, he exclaimed; “base! base!” then dashing it 
down, stamped upon it with his foot, saying, “ I hope 
now, my child, you ’ll banish forever, all recollections 
of that depraved young man from your pure mind ; he 
is not worthy of your love, nor of a moment’s thought • 


0 

Danger in the Dark. 

a contemner of our holy faith, he is fit only for perdi- 
tion ! ” 

Anna Maria remained inconsolable, and persisted 
in bitterly reproaching herself for unkindness to 
Alonzo. His image was too deeply daguerreotyped 
upon her heart, to be easily erased, or readily for- 
gotten. 




s 

CHAPTER Y. 

Soliloquy of a Jesuit — Is interrupted by the entrance of a Catholic 
Bishop — A conversation follows upon the prospects of the 
Church, and the policy necessary to success. 

In the evening of the same day on which Anna 
Maria Gerard received the forged letter, there might 
have been seen in a private apartment adjoining a 
cathedral, a morose-looking man, habited in black, 
and apparently entertaining thoughts of the same color. . 
His cadaverous face, rigid muscles, contracted brow, 
with the fiery sparkle, and viper-like glare of his 
small black eyes, would have brought over you a 
shudder, and called up thoughts of the midnight 
assassin, plotting horrid deeds of murder. Solitary 
and alone he sat, fearfully writhing under the weight 
of some dark, oppressive thought : like Macbeth, he 
seemed striving to nerve resolution, and “ bring his 
courage to the sticking place ; ” but unlike the king of 
Scotland, he wanted not ‘ a spur to prick the sides of 
his intent ’ — that he already had within his malignant 
soul, goading him to desperation. Now and then a 
fiendish smile dismally gleamed across his wrinkled 
visage, as if reveling in imaginary triumph over 
some fallen victim : at length, starting to his feet, with 
measured strides he passed to the opposite side of his 


Danger in tiie Dark. 


60 

chamber, knelt before a crucifix, made the sign of 
the cross, indistinctly mumbling a hurried prayer ; 
then rising again, turned about with an air of impa- 
tience — paused, bending his gaze thoughtfully upon the 
floor ; hands clenched, lips livid and compressed — 
thus he stood like a statue — until the boiling lava of 
his mind began to' flow out in words as follows : 

“ Accursed be the day, that saw the holy Inquisi- 
tion abolished ! and thrice accursed the heretics who 
conspired its overthrow ! * * # * A pillar of strength 
in the church, it stood for centuries ! To unbelievers 
and the enemies of the faith ’twas more terrible than 
an army with banners ! Alas ! the holy tribunal hath 
fallen — paralyzing the right arm of papal power, ana 
striking a fatal blow at ecclesiastical authority ! Then 
heaved the mother church a sigh that pierced the 
heavens, and shook the foundations of the earth ! 
Heretics rejoiced and hell lifted up a shout * * * * 
But there is comfort yet — that spiritual court, though 
buried in Europe, looks forward to a day of resurrec- 
tion in America. High heaven ! speed the time — and 
may I live to see it ! — # * * Yes, there ’s comfort 
in this, — while Catholicism declines in the Old World, 
’tis rising in the New. — By immense emigration, our 
strength in the United States is rapidly increasing: 
and the period may not be remote when, even in this 
land, so rife with heresy and cursed with Godless 
liberty, the Inquisition shall stretch forth its vindic- 
tive arm, to strike down the proud fabrics of Protest- 
antism, and hurl to the ground the free institutions 


70 


Danger in the Dark. 


of this boasted Republic ! and with a whip of scor- 
pions scourge heresy to the gates of perdition ! * * * 
Who then, will dare question the supremacy of the 
pope, — or deny the infallibility of the holy, apostolic 
church ! The impious tree of liberty shall be scathed 
by the vengeful lightnings of Rome, and shattered 
beneath the crashing thunders of the Vatican ! What 
a triumph, to see impious Protestant sects humbled 
in the dust and made to kiss the ground at our feet ! 
Then let them who dare, denounce our faith ; or wag 
their tongues against priest or Pope! * * * * So 
fiercely burns my holy indignation, scarcely have I 
patience for policy — yet must I use policy — and study 
to catch the nearest way. I may feel daggers, but 
must not speak them. Like the innocent flower let 
me look, though I bite like the serpent under it. — 
Aiming at great ends, it is weak to scruple about the 
means ! — A Jesuit must frame his face to all occa- 
sions — and if need be, wheedle with the devil ! * * * 
* * Protestantism is a tree whose roots have struck 
deeply and whose branches extend afar — sheltering 
heretics and promoting the growth of heresy — ? tis a 
baneful Upas, throwing a deadly shddow upon the 
mother church — causing her venerable walls to molder 
and her consecrated altars to crumble. This God-pro- 
voking and heaven-insulting tree must be felled — and 
that it sprout no more, every fiber should be eradicated 
from the earth it encumbers — that root and branch may 
be together cast into the fire, and consumed by the 
fierceness of Almighty wrath ! * * * * It may cost 


Danger in the Dark. 71 

blood — but what of that ! the enemies of God and the 
adversaries of the sovereign pontiff, must be over- 
thrown ! Should a Jesuit falter, tremble and turn 
pale at thought of blood, while the church suffers 
reproach and is impeded in her progress ? What 
God abhors, let our holy order forever detest and 
oppose ! Consequences be what they may, it is the 
imperative duty of every Jesuit to. defend the faith 
and protect the interests of the church : oath -bound is 
each member of the immaculate Society of Jesus, to 
persecute and destroy heretics. As a Jesuit, I am 
not my own — but stand, obsequious to the will of 
his holiness, the pope — promptly rendering obedience, 
in thought, word and deed. * * * * Jesuitism is an 
instrument in the hands of the sovereign pontiff, 
wielded at his pleasure, to pierce the heart of Protest- 
antism in every land !— it is a sword whose hilt is in 
Rome, and whose blade is over all the earth !” 

His soliloquy was here broken off by a rap on his 
door — proceeding to open which, a grave priestly- 
looking man presented himself, who greeted him as 
Dr. Dupin ; and whom he, in turn, greeted as 
Bishop Constantius. 

“Happy to see you, dear Bishop ! please be seated.” 

“ To whom, in all this world, Dr. Dupin, were you 
discoursing so vehemently as I approached ! You 
seem to be entirely alone.” 

“Did you certainly hear me, Bishop?” 

“Hear you, sir? why, upon my word, you were 
raving !” 


72 Danger in the Dark. 

u So lost in my thoughts !” 

“Were you not conscious of speaking audibly ?” 

“ By no means was I.” 

“What can have occurred to disturb your equa- 
nimity so much ?” 

“Indeed sir, my patience has been severely tried of 
late.” 

“What, will a Jesuit despond and yield to adver- 
sity ?” 

“Mistake me not; I do not yield ; neither have I 
ever despaired ! Too well have I been baptized into 
the spirit of our order, not to know that patience and 
perseverance are requisite.” 

“Thereby, the greatest wonders have been achieved; 
miracles have been wrought ; governments revolu- 
tionized and kingdoms overturned J” 

“Yes; through patience and perseverance, the 
order of Jesuits has amazed the world and accom- 
plished seeming impossibilities!” 

“Still, I am curious to know what has produced 
this terrible ebullition in your saintly mind.” 

“My righteous indignation has been provoked not 
a little, to see that the enemies of our faith are learning 
to adopt our mode of warfare, and even to turn against 
us our own weapons !” 

“Ah! we should beware of that — and look well to 
it, that they do not steal our thunder!” 

“Believe me, there is a secret combination against 
us in this city ; and they have their spies out, watch- 
ing our maneuvers, and threading their way into our 


Danger in the Dark. 


73 


most private affairs and covert designs; plans are 
being concerted to defeat our aims and thwart the 
holy purposes of the hierarchy!” 

“Doubtless, it is even so; it behooves us the more, 
to move cautiously ; when profane eyes peep through 
the blanket of the dark, ’tis time to beware. Have 
your designs, in any important affair of late, been 
defeated ?” 

“Yes, I’ve been sadly balked — and that, in a plot 
I had calculated much on; all my wire- working for a 
twelvemonth has been overset — and just when I had 
thought it brought to a focus : ’twas villainous ! and 
a villain it was — a meddlesome, Protestant villain 
that defeated me!” 

“Perdition catch his soul! in what, pray, did he 
defeat you ?” 

“In an affair I once told you of: a lady of fortune, 
a maiden lady, whose mind I had wrought upon, so 
that she felt it a duty to renounce the world and 
seclude herself in a convent, was about making over 
to the church a large portion of her property, prepar- 
atory to consecrating her life to God, when, as the 
malice of the devil would have it, a fascinating, hand- 
some fellow, chanced to make her acquaintance — sud- 
denly she changed her mind with regard to taking the 
vail, and this very day was married !” 

“Sacrilegious! — May heaven plant thorns in her 
bridal -bed, and make her life more wretched than 
she hopes to render it happy !” 


74 


Danger in the Dark. 


“Nor do my troubles end there — for ’tis not yet 
sur£, that Anna Maria Gerard will be prevailed on 
to take the vail.” 

“Think you, after all the trouble, that may turn 
out a failure? I thought it made sure, beyond the 
shadow of a doubt.” 

“She loves Carleton more than she loves her soul’s 
salvation !” 

“Can you find no remedy for that? is there no 
drop of gall to be put into the wine-cup of her love ?” 

“Yes — and I’ve already poured it in; it made 
her weep, and wrung her heart with anguish — but 
I ’m not so sure but she ’ll drink it still, with all its 
bitterness !” 

“Her marriage with Carleton must be prevented ; 
keep pouring in the gall — poison the very fountain of 
her affections — if that wont do, drive her to madness ! 
There is a hundred thousand at stake, remember — a 
sum worth figuring for.” 

“ So I think ; but there ’s danger in that young 
Carleton — the fact is the fellow ’s desperate !” 

“What of that? let him get desperate — and tear 
his hair if he will.” 

“But he might tear mine.” 

“ Has he at any time menaced you ?” 

“But yesterday it was, he encountered me on the 
street with flashing eyes !” 

“Did he flash nothing worse than his eyes at 
you ? — you were in no great danger if that was all.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


75 


“ I know not what he intended — but such a look, 
the devil could scarcely have put on ! depend upon it, 
he meant something.” 

“Wisely considering discretion the better part of 
valor you waited not a declaration of his intentions 
I suppose ?” 

“ I thought it better not to ; he planted himself right 
before-me on the sidewalk; which brought me to a 
sudden halt — then bending upon me a fierce gaze, 
which seemed to pierce me through, he assumed a 
hostile attitude, elevating his right arm, which if my 
eyes deceived me not, bore aloft a huge cane — then— 
I—” 

“Vanished ?” 

“No, I banished the wretch from my sight.” 

“Banished him ! — how ?” 

“By turning my back on the impudent villain.” 

“Ah ! what did he then do ?” 

“I didn’t wait to see — but took the fast line for a 
place of safety — and for once my slender legs rendered 
me good service.” 

'“That was well.” 

“ Not so very well, as it turned out — for a pack of 
boys cried, ‘ catch the thief and that set a parcel of 
watchmen after me.” 

“Monstrous ! but you outran them all ?” 

“ No ! the hounds caught me.” 

“Hounds ! — Holy Virgin ! they set dogs upon you ?” 

“ Human hounds I mean.” 

“ O yes — Protestant dogs I” 


76 


Danger in the Dark. 


“No, the fellows that caught me were Catholic 
watchmen — and knew not who they had hold of, till 
they had torn my coat off me.” 

a Prodigious ! why did they handle you so 
roughly ?” 

u I struggled to get away — thinking that it was the 
blood-thirsty Carleton who had pursued and overtaken 
me. Had it not been for the length of my coat-tail, 
which streamed out so far behind, they, perhaps, would 
not have got their clutches upon me ; but two robust 
Irishmen, laying hold of my outspread wings — one 
seizing my right, and the other my left skirt — dream- 
ing not that it was a consecrated garment, worn by a 
priest, and suddenly checking me up, while I strug- 
gled like a buffalo in a snare to get free, they split my 
coat clear to the collar ; and what was worse, my wig 
flew off in the scuffle — and you can, perhaps, imagine 
what a ludicrous figure I cut !” 

“Yes, in my mind’s eye, I see it all ; and a desper- 
ate outrage it was ; I marvel not, that your righteous 
soul is vexed.” 

u The whole matter being explained, I was soon set 
at liberty; the Catholic watchmen, who treated me so 
rudely, humbly begged my pardon and sneaked away ; 
but that reprobate Carleton, laughed and jeered, as 
though it were rare sport — and such, no doubt, he 
considered it — a thousand curses upon his soul !” 

“ In hell he ’ll roast for it !” 

“ That’s one comfort.” 

“ But to waive this unpleasant subject, Dr. Dupin, 


Danger in the Dark. 77 

allow me to give you some account of my tour west, 
from which I ’ve just returned.” 

“ Yery well, Bishop, I’m anxious to hear.” 

“ In St. Louis, our cause is strong and rapidly 
gaining ground ; in Vincennes, we are not without 
strength — yet in that section Catholicity is making no 
advance. In most parts where I’ve been, Protest- 
antism is impudent and shows a bold front ! — Sabbath- 
schools, bible-societies, prayer-meetings and a free- 
press are the greatest obstacles that lie in our way. ” 

“ Alas ! that we are compelled to tolerate such 
abominations ! they are mighty engines of mischief. 
It is becoming every day more evident, that the Cath- 
olic church can never appear in its true character, nor 
put on its proper dignity, in this country, until it 
wields a secular arm, which no sect nor party will 
dare oppose.” 

“ True ; we want, and must have control of, the 
military power to enforce the authority of the sover- 
eign pontiff. Stubborn heresy should always be met 
by such arguments as the holy Inquisition deigns 
to offer — the rack, the dungeon, fire and fagot ! 
Arguments like these have potency ; and nothing 
short of them can effectually put to silence the hellish 
doctrines of free-thought, free-speech, rights of con- 
science, and the right of private judgment in the 
interpretation of Scripture.” 

“ But until then, we shall have need for patience.” 

“So we will ; compelled are we to wait until we 
are stronger; expediency requires forbearance; then 


T8 Danger in the Dark. 

let discretion temper our zeal ; for should we chance 
to show our hand too soon, the game may go against 
us. Our holy father in St. Peter’s chair reminds us, 
in his last communication, that every expedient is 
right, which tends to strengthen and build up the 
church. Then we need not scruple to dissemble, or 
use intrigue, if thereby we can gain advantage over 
our enemies, and so advance the faith. While we 
detest, and seek to subvert the free institutions of this 
republic, we must praise them ; and although we know 
it hazardous to enlighten thejnasses, nevertheless it is 
necessary that we profess to be the friends of education ; 
heaven, we are assured, will commend this policy.” 

u Even so ; that w T e are not bound to keep faith with 
heretics, is what the church has ever taught, and this 
we can turn to vast advantage in the United States.” 

“ So we may. I find that the expulsion of the Jesu- 
its from France, is likely to prove of signal advantage 
to us in this country ; for immense numbers of them are 
now crowding to the American shores ; no less than 
two-thirds of the priests now at St. Louis belong to 
the order.” 

“ Are any of the priests at Yincennes Jesuits ? ” 

“ No ; and a good deal of prejudice, I was sorry to 
find, existed there both with the priests and the laity, 
against the holy t)rder ; I have, however, succeeded in 
allaying it to some extent.” 

“ Catholics who envy and hate the society of Jesus, 
when they know it is approved by the Pope, are but 
little better than Protestants.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


79 


u So they are — I detest them but still it won’t do 
to have a division among us ; this would weaken our 
ranks, and bring disgrace upon the church : we must 
make use of everything, and all kinds of material 
that can be brought to bear against Protestantism. 
* * * Fatigued as I am, from to-day’s travel, I must 
beg to be excused from further conversation to-night ; ” 
said Constan tius, rising to depart, “ we shall meet 
soon again, and speak more at length on this subject.” 
u I hope so.” 

“ Think upon that hundred thousand ; urge Anna 
Maria to take the vail — be sly — tread the ground 
softly, that it prate not of your whereabouts.” 
u That will I.” 

“ Good night ! Dr. Dupin.” 

“ Good night ! Bishop.” 


CHAPTER VI. 

Ceremony of taking the vail — The Maniac. 


It was a scene never to be forgotten — and calcu 
lated at once to awaken the tenderest sympathies ol 
the heart, and arouse all the burning indignation of 
the soul ! The ceremonies were performed in the con- 
vent-chapel — Anna Maria Gerard and Arabella May, 
whose faculties had at last been so manacled, and 
whose spirits so crushed by the incubus of papal 
superstition, that they were prepared to yield impli- 
citly to whatever their spiritual guides enjoined, were 
now led to the altar of consecration, and meekly kneel- 
ing at the feet of the robed priest, there took the irre- 
vocable vows, that impose a life of poverty, celibacy, 
seclusion and penance ; and that enjoin obedience to 
the priesthood, and bind the recluse never more to 
pass the convent gates, unless promoted to the office 
of a sister of charity. 

Anna Maria never looked more lovely than at that 
hour; there was a sweet pensiveness in her expression, 
yet a death-like paleness overspread her delicate fea- 
tures: black and glossy as the raven’s plume, was 
her flowing hair, which fell gracefully upon her slen- 
der shoulders, and hung in unbraided ringlets about 
r0\ 

€ 

, 4 ; 


Danger in the Dark. 


81 


her temples. Her gentle bosom heaved with emotion, 
and the angelic creature seemed struggling like a mar- 
tyr at the stake, for resignation to her fate. Arabella, 
though manifesting some trepidation, endured the 
cruel ceremonies with surprising fortitude. The 
gloom that hung upon her young heart, clouded her fair 
brow, but still the bloom of health was on her cheek ; 
her hair, of a golden hue, looked like shining threads 
of amber as, disheveled, it dropped upon the graceful 
form of the kneeling beauty. When the solemn vows 
had passed their lips, Dupin, the ministering priest, 
said in a doleful voice : “Heaven requires sacrifice! 
long hair is a vain ornament and only fosters pride, 
and as pride becomes not saints, you must now be 
shorn.” Saying which, he inserted into Anna Maria’s 
ebon locks, the sacred scissors, like his own heart, 
relentless and remorseless ! The monster ceased not to 
despoil until the head was made bare, and the last 
ringlet dropped from the temples of beauty ! Then 
looking upon his mutilated victim, said with an air of 
piety, “ As your head has been divested of its gay 
covering, so may your heart be disrobed of all earthly 
affections ! ” 

Arabella had now to pass the same ordeal ; and 
when beneath the priestly hand, her glittering tresses 
began to fall, the pearly tear, despite her religious for- 
titude, might have been seen glistening in her mild, 
blue eye ; yet no audible sigh or moan escaped her 
lips. # # * Black caps were now put on their heads ; 
then two coffins, covered with dark velvet, were 
6 


82 


Danger in the Dark. 


brought in — borne to the altar by sisters of charity ; 
several lighted candles were placed round them: now 
the priest, assisted by the sisters of charity, lifted 
Anna Maria and Arabella from their knees and laid 
them in the coffins ; sprinkled holy water upon them; 
said mass ; then lifting them out again, flung over 
their heads, black vails, which dropped down in front 
in the form of a cross. The initiated were then pro- 
nounced dead to the world ; and presented to the 
Abbess, with the charge, that she should teach them 
the solemn duties of saints and carefully watch over 
their souls. They were now led by the superior to a 
part of the convent they had not before been permitted 
to enter — and where only such as w T ear the black vail, 
are ever allowed to go. After receiving from the 
Abbess a lesson on self-denial and the necessity of 
penance, fasting, and the saying prayers, they were 
left to their meditations. Singular as it may seem, 
the deluded girls appeared now, all at once, to awake 
from the spell that had bound them, and to have a 
realizing sense of the fearful step they had just taken. 

“ Arabella, and is this our doom ?” said Maria, in 
a desponding tone, “ are we here to spend our days ? 
O, what an indescribable feeling of desolation comes 
over me ! Alas ! what strange infatuation has led 
us to seek this comfortless abode ?” 

Arabella answered not, but throwing her arms 
round Maria’s neck, burst into a flood of tears. 
While they were silently weeping, locked in each 
other’s embrace, Helen Bower, one of the nuns, the 


Danger in the Dark. 


83 


reader may remember, introduced in our first chapter, 
entered the apartment, into which the new saints had 
been conducted, to congratulate them on their happy 
escape from a wicked world, to a place of holy quiet 
and religious repose. 

Maria and Arabella had each known Helen, in- 
timately, before she became a Catholic and were 
warmly attached to her ; and they had hoped to expe- 
rience great pleasure in renewing their acquaintance 
with her in the cloister: but how their hearts were 
chilled, to see what a change had come over the spirit 
of Helen ! A gloomy superstition had transformed 
her, from the cheerful, smiling, bright and lovely 
girl she once was ; the glow of health and beauty, 
had faded ; the eye’s brilliant sparkle had given place 
to a blank, abstracted gaze ; the sweet smile of love 
had fled the lip — and all her faculties seemed mor- 
bidly absorbed in devotion. Such was the character 
of her congratulations, the unnaturalness and coldness 
of her manner, that she ministered no comfort to the 
burdened hearts of Maria and Arabella, but rather 
added to their dejection. While she yet discoursed 
with them, a wild, startling laugh was heard in an 
adjoining room : 

“ Be not alarmed,” said Helen, “ that is poor Isa- 
dora Norwood, whom Satan has made mad.” 

“ Isadora Norwood gone mad ?” exclaimed Anna 
Maria, clasping her hands in agony; “Arabella, can ^ 
it be the same we knew so well and loved so much ?” 


84 


Danger in the Dark. 


“ It must be ; I heard, long ago, she was in the 
convent.” 

“ So had I heard ; but understood she was content 
and happy. Why, Helen, do you say, Satan has made 
her mad ?” 

61 In wicked disobedience to her spiritual superiors, 
she persisted in reasoning on subjects, which mortals 
are forbidden to look into.” 

“How long has she been insane ?” inquired Maria. 

“But a few days have elapsed, since she was 
entirely bereft of reason — yet for months have I anti- 
cipated what she has at last come to — and oft told her, 
thinking and repining would make her mad ; she 
heeded me not — and her noble intellect is now a 
wreck !” 

“Was she inclined to regret having taken the vail ?” 

“Yes ; and but for the strength of her vows, would 
have long since abandoned the convent. Cherishing 
discontent, she grievously sinned — I marvel not, that 
her reason has been dethroned.” 

The maniac, breaking from her cell, now rushed 
into their presence ; and for a moment fixed her eyes 
with a wondering and delirious gaze, on Maria and 
Arabella : then breaking forth in a strain of wild, 
sweet music, sung, impromptu, the following lines : 

“ Sweet spirits, dear. 

What seek ye here. 

Where the beauteous maid 
Must ever pine and fade ? 


Danger in the Dark. 


85 


Alas ! more hearts shall break— 

And all for heaven’s dear sake I 
As priests can show, 

It must be so. 

“Worn and weary. 

Cold and dreary, 

0, let me bid farewell. 

To all this monkish hell : 

And go to seek afar. 

Some lonely, distant star — 

That peace of mind, 

I there may find. 

“ Here saints we grow. 

For hell below ! 

Let clergy call it heaven — 

Their lies be ne’er forgiven. 

As you may live to see. 

Tour sacrifice will be. 

Virtue, duty — 

Touth and beauty. 

“ They call me mad ; 

That makes me glad — 

For reason was my foe — 

Long ago — long ago ! 

From the pure air of heaven. 

By foul fiends I ’m driv’n ! 

Like you, my dears, 

I once shed tears.” 

Here she suddenly paused, and covering her face 
with her hands, convulsively wept. Then, by a quick 
transition of feelings, she looked up, with a bright 
smile playing upon her features and shining through 
her tears like sunbeams streaming through a misty 


Danger in the Dark. 
again, in a melodious voice, she began to 

“ Happy and free 
As the honey bee, 

I ’ll cull the sweet flowers. 

And deck rosy bowers. 

I ’ve golden wings to fly. 

High as the starry sky ! 

Then soon I ’ll go 
From realms of woe. 

“To the deep sea. 

Come, follow me ; 

Its shining pearls are mine — 

They all, all shall be thine. 

0, there forever lave. 

The moaning, moaning wave — 

It sighs for me, 

Come, come and see.” 

Now pausing again, she looked earnestly, for a few 
moments, into the faces of Maria and Arabella, and 
then addressed them thus : 

“Beautiful damsels, have ye neither homes nor 
friends, that you have come hitherto breathe foul con- 
tagion — and to dwell where maniacs rave and fiends 
'prowl for prey ?” 

“ I see no fiends, Isadora remarked Anna Maria, 
thinking, perhaps, to dissipate her imaginary fears. 

“Ah! you would not know them to be such, at 
first sight;” replied the lunatic, looking archly, “they 
wear clerical robes.” 

“You do not think the good priests are fiends ?” 

“Good priests, fair one,” returned she, “have all gone 


86 

cloud : 
sing: 


Danger in the Dark. 


87 


to heaven ; those who remain, claiming to be such, 
are traveling the other way. What do we poor repro- 
bates want with demons to confess our sins to ?” 

“ Imagine not such strange things, Isadora.” 

“ I tell thee, simple girl, the men to whom you go 
to be forgiven, have more wickedness in their hearts 
and iniquity on their heads, than all the waters in the 
mighty seas can wash away!” 

The superior, discovering the maniac at liberty, 
approached, and rudely seizing her by the arm, com- 
manded her in a harsh, ungentle voice, to return to 
her cell. 

“ Fiend!” cried she, to St. Evangeline, who was 
roughly dragging her away, “you have long enough 
tormented me — soon it will be my turn. — Ah! I’ll 
haunt you, when I die, and bring with me legions of 
fiends !” 

“You have legions of fiends with you already,” 
replied her tormenter. 

“So I have ; at least one that ’s equal to a legion,” 
retorted the lunatic. 

“You must fast and remain shut out from the light, 
till the demons within you be cast out ;” saying which, 
the Abbess shoved her into a dark cell — and locking 
the door, left her wildly raving. 

“How unfeeling!” exclaimed Anna Maria, in a 
suppressed voice. 

“ O, that we had gone to our graves, ere we entered 
this horrible place !” said Arabella, convulsively clasp- 
ing Anna Maria in her arms. 


CHAPTER VII. 


Enola’s adventure — The mysterious letter — Anna Maria becomes 
distrustful of Dupin. 

The subjoined letter was written by Alonzo Carle- 
ton, to his deluded Anna Maria before he was made 
acquainted with the fact that she had really taken the 
monastic vows ; yet he was becoming sadly apprehen- 
sive, that such would be the final result of the super- 
stitious training to which she was being subjected 
under the direction of priest Dupin. The letter was 
confided to the hand of Enola Glenn, who found 
much difficulty in conveying it to the object of his 
love, without the knowledge of the superior, and did 
not succeed until after Maria had taken the black vail. 

It was in the twilight of the evening, Enola had 
stealthily made her way into the shady back-ground 
of the convent premises. A stately locust tree that 
stood in the rear of the building, extended one of its 
strong branches in the direction of an upper_ window, 
until it came nearly in contact with it : by the fading 
light of the closing day, and the soft rays of the 
evening star, which hung like a golden lamp in the 
western sky, Enola espied through the clustering 
foliage, looking out from the little window, a familiar 

face — it was the face of Anna Maria ; scarcly could 

( 88 ) ' ^ 

- mgm ' i 


Danger in the Dark. 


89 


Enola refrain from speaking, yet she dared not for 
fear of being defeated in her object ; remaining con- 
cealed until the darkness thickened so that she was 
in no danger of being seen, she summoned courage to 
climb the locust ; and softly creeping out upon the 
projecting limb that swept the window, she soon found 
herself near enough to toss the letter which Alonzo 
had committed to her, into the apartment through the 
open window. While she was pausing to make a 
sure fling, a light was struck in the room, which 
enabled Enola to discover that Anna Maria was 
alone, and preparing to engage in her evening devo- 
tions.: waiting until she had bowed before her crucifix 
and commenced her orisons, she gently flung the letter 
into the apartment, which dropped on the floor in 
front of the worshiper as if tossed by a spirit-hand. 
Seizing the unexpected missive, Anna Maria sprang 
to her feet, looked quickly round the room, and then 
out of the window, but saw no one. “ ’Tis strange!” 
she exclaimed to herself, “ my door is closed, my win- 
dow high above the ground ; I plainly saw it fall upon 
the floor — whence came it? that ’s the question ! But 
what is this written upon it?” and seating herself by 
the lamp, she read the name — Anna Maria Gerard : 
“ ’Tis Alonzo’s handwriting ! ” she exclaimed, and 
eagerly tearing off the envelope, read as follows : 

“ My dearest, and long lost Anna Maria : — 

“ I know not that your eye will ever light upon the 
frail words now being traced by this trembling hand; 
* 7 


90 


Danger in the Dark. 


but faintly hoping heaven may favor my wishes, 1*11 
venture to spread out upon this sheet, some of the burn- 
ing thoughts that almost consume my brain to ashes. 
* * * * Alas! thou, the idol of my heart ! the adored 
angel of my first k>ve ! my only love ! what madness 
hath seized you ? What infatuation hath come over thy 
glorious mind, to bewilder and delude thee thus ? or 
what fiendish hand hath by violence, snatched from 
me the rare flower 1 had thought bloomed but to 
bless my existence, and to be cherished by my own 
hand ? ’Tis strange, ’tis passing strange, that one so 
pure, so guileless, so true-hearted, as I thought thee, 
should prove — I dare not say false — no, I will not; 
for I know thy spirit is as spotless as e’er was the 
new-fallen snow, and stainless as the purple light 
of heaven ! By the false hearted have you been led 
into a dark and dreary path ; a false religion hath 
beclouded the serene sky of thy mind : I ’ll blame 
thee not, but deplore thy blindness.* ****** 
O, think of it, deluded one, life’s dewy morn, in all its 
balmy freshness, has but just opened upon you ; and 
the sweet flowers of pleasure are only waiting to 
spring up at your feet, and unfold their beauty and 
fragrance! Why will you despise and turn away 
from all that would charm and give zest to life ? Is 
the spring-time of existence too long, and hath the 
gloom of its winter a higher attraction, that you 
thus hurry on to assume the habiliments of age, and 
shut out from your vision life’s brightest sunshine ? 
Is youth a crime, and beauty a sin ? Why then 


Danger in the Dark. 


91 


seekest thou blighting and decay ? The Author of our 
being, bids us not be sorrowful and sad, but freely 
offers joy and delight to all. Look around thee upon 
the glories and harmonies of creation : is there not 
beauty for the eye, and music for the ear, and count- 
less objects to regale the senses and give exquisite 
pleasure to the mind ? Has heaven intended but to 
tempt and tantalize us, by placing elements of happi- 
ness, and sources of pleasure within our reach ? But 
why do I urge you to reason ? the religion you revere, 
proscribes the rational powers, and repudiates the 
dictates of human understanding ! You cannot fail to 
see, that when reason is interdicted, all argument is at 
an end, and the most palpable testimony of no avail. 

“ That you have quite forgotten me, why shall I 
doubt ? I can forgive you all but this — you thought 
not to say, Farewell ! * # * * My most fervent wishes 
are, that you may be happy. 

“Alonzo Carleton.” 

Overcome with emotion, produced by the contents 
of the letter — and bewildered at thought of the mys- 
terious manner of its coming, she covered up her face 
and wept — scarcely knowing whether it was reality 
or but a dream. 

Arabella now entering the room, and beholding 
Maria in the agony of grief, threw her arms around 
her, affectionately saying, “ What, dear Anna, has 
come over you, that you weep thus ? 55 

“I know not, ’’said she; “but this letter came 
strangely into my possession.” 


92 


Danger in the Dark. 


“ How strangely ? ” 

“ I was upon my knees, praying to the holy Virgin 
Mary — the door was closed; I saw no one; heard 
no one ; am confident no one was near ; yet, in a 
beautiful envelope, with my full name elegantly 
inscribed upon it, and in the handwriting of Alonzo, 
the letter dropped lightly on the floor immediately in 
front of me, brushing softly my bosom as it passed, 
and falling at the foot of the crucifix.” 

“ Wonderful! But some one must have brought it.” 

“ How was it possible for any one to enter without 
opening the door ? beside, it came not in that direc- 
tion.” 

“ The window is open.” 

“ But know you not it is full twenty feet from the 
ground ? ” 

“ True. ’Tis very strange ! Does Alonzo Carleton’s 
name sign it ? ” 

“ It does ; look you here.” 

“Yes — ’tis plain — familiar as would seem his 
face ; he must have written it. What is the pur- 
port? ” 

“ Read for yourself.” 

Trembling from the influence of a superstitious 
fear, which the mysterious circumstance had inspired, 
Arabella took the letter from Maria’s hand, and 
hastily swept her dilating eyes over line after line, 
until the contents of the sheet were entirely perused. 

u How unlike the former letter he wrote you ! ” 
observed Arabella, when she had finished the perusal, 


Danger in the Dark. 93 

“ nor does he once allude,” continued she, u to that 
offensive note.” 

u This convinces me, he never was the author of 
the scurrilous letter you refer to.” 

u Was it not in his own handwriting ? ” 

“ I incline to the belief it was but an imitation ; 
this is a much bolder, and more elegant hand ; beside, 
the sentiments and style of the composition are so 
much more like Alonzo ! ” 

“ But if not Carleton, who could have written the 
former one % ” 

“ I dare not tell you, Arabella, on whom my sus- 
picions rest.” 

“ I hope, not on father Dupin ? ” 

“ Ask me not, sister — he is a priest, and we must 
try to believe him incapable of so wicked a thing.” 

“ Shall we tell the Superior of this mysterious 
affair ? ” 

“No — by no means — nor any of the inmates of 
the convent ; let us keep it a profound secret.” 

“ No doubt, it will be the better so.” 

“Iam persuaded Alonzo loves me still, yet I know 
not how he can ! ” 

“ And Maria still loves Alonzo.” 

“ I deny it not.” 

“ It seems to me, Anna Maria, I would almost risk 
perdition for the sake of one I truly loved, and to 
whom I had solemnly plighted my faith, as you have 
to Carleton.” 


94 


Danger in the Dark. 


u Pray, sister, do not tempt me to disregard the 
vows that bind me to the cloister, and to celibacy.” 
u Heaven forbid that I should cause you to err.” 

“ We cannot now do better than study contentment, 
and pray for resignation to our fate. Whether Mr. 
Dupin has done right by us or not, we must not forget, 
our vows have been taken before God, who knoweth 
the secrets of the heart, and before whose judgment- 
bar, we shall one day stand.” 

The conversation was here interrupted by the 
entrance of several nuns. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


Alonzo’s unhappiness — Becomes an infidel, and an inebriate — 

The genteel spree. 

When Carleton learned that Anna Maria Gerard 
had really abjured the world and taken the sable vail, 
he gave her up as lost, and tried to banish from his 
mind, all thought of her; but too deeply had her 
lovely image impressed his “ heart of hearts ; ” the 
vision haunted his melancholy mind night and day ; 
in his fancy, sometimes she danced before him like a 
sunbeam, radiant with smiles as in the halcyon days of 
her girlhood — anon, she would appear of sober mien, 
head bowed down in sorrow, and clad in the gloomy 
attire of the cloister, and in silence and sadness turn- 
ing from him. 

One night, after tossing from side to side upon his 
couch for many long and weary hours, vainly striving 
to lock in oblivious slumber, his feverish brain, he 
arose in despair, saying to himself, 44 O, that this 
long, long night were past ! How tardily the mo- 
ments run ! * * # # 4 Tired nature’s sweet restorer, 
balmy sleep ’ — where art thou ? — gone 4 to light on 
lids unsullied with a tear.’ Why not come to the 
abode of misery, as willingly as thou seek’st the 

( 95 ”) 


96 


Danger in the Dark. 


dwelling places of the happy? ****** Shall 
Alonzo sleep no more? ‘Sorrow murders sleep — 
sleep, that knits up the raveled sleeve of care,’ and 
pours the healing balm of quiet on ‘hurt minds!’ 
##*#*##* Anna Maria, ’tis thoughts of thee 
that cause my unrest; thou, who wert my delight, 
the brightest star that gemmed my skies, kindling 
within my heart the light of hope, how hast thou 
fallen ! The beauty of the firmament has faded ! the 
ornament of heaven is gone ! Had relentless death 
snatched thee from me, and the cold grave received 
thy fair form, I could have borne it ; but to know that 
a vile sycophant hath wrought thy ruin, that a cruel 
superstition hath fettered and led thee to a prison 
more dismal than the charnel house, touches me 
deeply ! ” 

Unsettled as he was in his theological opinions, and 
never having been properly established in correct 
religious principles, Carleton was prepared to glide 
without an effort, into downright infidelity. And 
nothing could have tended more rapidly to drift him 
in that direction, than the gross and palpable absur- 
dities of Romanism, and the corruption of the priest- 
hood, which he^so plainly saw unfolded in the train 
of circumstances connected with the alluring of Anna 
Maria to the cloister. Hot having reflected that 
Romanism was one thing, and Christianity another, 
he turned away from all religion, and allowed cold 
unbelief to fasten upon his youthful mind. Casting 
aside revelation as an imposture, he grew faithless 


Danger in the Dark. 


97 


toward God, and lost confidence in humanity, and 
soon abandoned himself to recklessness and dissi- 
pation. 

****** 

To the troubled heart, the oppressed and tortured 
mind, there lies a powerful temptation in the wine- 
cup. Because it offers temporary relief from gloomy 
depression and the chafing effects of adversity’s 
waves that beat against the keen sensibilities of the 
soul — by a short-lived exhilaration, the feelings are 
elated and raised above the leaden clouds, that 
sometimes shut out the sunshine of hope from life’s 
pathway — the poignancy of piercing grief is softened, 
tribulation and disappointment forgotten. Induce- 
ments like these, together with the influence of per- 
nicious examples, within the reach of which Carleton 
had now cast himself, led him into intemperate 
habits : some account of which, it may not be im- 
proper to give — if the courteous reader will but con- 
sent to pardon the digression. 

* * * * # # * * 

“Well, well! this is a dull, monotonous world at 
best, at least it seems such to me:” said Alonzo, 
soliloquizingly, at the same time tossing aside a book, 
with which he had been trying in vain tcymiuse him- 
self ; “there’s no use,” continued he, “in sitting here 
all day, like a moping owl — I ’ll take a stroll down 
town, and see whether I can’t, by some sort of means, 
shake off this horrid ennui;” saying which, he arose, 


98 


Danger in the Dark. 


sauntered out of his room upon the street, and 
directly met a company of idle young men, on whose 
hands time seemed to hang as heavily as upon his 
own. 

“Which way, Mr. Carleton ?” inquired one of their 
number, in a familiar manner. 

“I’m trying,” he replied, “to run away from the 
blue-devils — heavy thoughts and dull hours.” 

“Ah! we are just the men who can sympathize 
with you in that distress; for these blue-devils you 
talk of, have been hard after us all day, and our 
captain here proposes to halt at Wring-neck alley and 
fire a broad -side upon the foe !” 

“In the shape of brandy-slings, mint-juleps, gin- 
cocktails, etc., I imagine ?” 

“That’s the kind of artillery and no mistake! 
Come now, fall into ranks with us, and we ’ll route 
the enemy, horse, foot and dragoons !” 

“Yes — join us in our stroll, Alonzo,” remarked, 
Mr. Brown, “for we all have a little touch of the 
dumps to-day.” 

“I’ll join you only on one condition ; and that is, 
that we retreat to a more respectable point than Wring- 
neck alley, before we face about.” 

“All agreed ! — Since we are gentlemen, it becomes 
us to spree genteelly.” 

“I’m not in for a spree, boys — never indulge to 
excess ; and only wish to take enough to throw off 
this unbearable dullness.” 


Danger in the Dark. 99 

“ O pshaw ! such drinking as that does a fellow so 
little good ! — When a man begins, he might just as 
well take enough to make him forget his sins.” 

“That’s the doctrine!” responded the principal 
drinker in the crowd, whom they called Captain. — 
“ Come, Mr. Carleton, away with your squeamishness ; 
and let us consider ourselves on a bust ! I perceive 
you have sickly notions of propriety ; they are alto- 
gether too stale, and should have been buried with 
your grandfather ! Young men of genius must keep 
up with the car of progress.” 

“ Provided, it keeps the track, and never runs back- 
ward down hill.” 

“Never fear for that; it’s always upward in its 
course ; but no longer drawn by donkeys.” 

i ‘ One might have thought you on the fast line of 
progress, captain,” observed Mr. Brown, “ to have 
seen you the other night, three sheets in the wind !” 

“ But you ought to have staid to see him in the 
fourth sheet,” said another. 

“ How was that, Dick ?” 

“He got so boozy he found it a hard matter to keep 
the towpath, as we came up from Whisky Point, and 
so managed to tumble heels over head into the canal.” 

“And like to have broke my infernal neck, and got 
drowned in the bargain,” added the captain. 

“ So it will sometimes happen,” remarked Alonzo ; 
“there are, at best, some slippery places in our way 
through life, which, if we do not overleap, we must 
fall down upon.” 


100 


Danger in the Dark. 


The party proceeded to the St. Charles, which was 
considered the most fashionable drinking establish- 
ment in the city. As they approached the threshold 
of the temple of Bacchus some of the company mani- 
fested a little hesitancy; perceiving which the captain 
said, in an animated voice: 

“ Let us live while we live! Walk in, boys ; don’t 
be afraid.” 

With this encouragement all entered the St. Charles 
— those most accustomed to places of bacchanalian 
resort leading the way. 

“What will you have, my good fellows V y said Carle- 
ton, who claimed the privilege of treating the company. 

“ Champagne, claret, or something of that sort 
will do to begin with,” remarked the captain. 

“ Come, old fatty,” said Carleton, addressing the 
barkeeper, “set out your best wines.” 

“ Ah ! here it is with a sparkle in its eye.” 

“ Take hold, gentleman, take hold ! But where ’s 
young Master Allen ? Upon my word, stands off 
there blushing like a bride !” 

“Walk up to the trough, young man,” said the cap 
tain ; “you must learn to face the music, if you evei 
expect to be a man.” 

“ He ’s inclined to think screens a great invention 
for coffee-house doors,” observed Frank Deming ; “ I 
was much amused to see him slide in, after timidly 
glancing round to see if anybody was looking at him.” 

“Poor boy,” said the captain, “his mother don’t 
know he ’s out.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


101 


u I ’m glad she don’t know I ’m in,” replied the 
well-bred youth.” 

44 In where, booby ?” 

41 This rum-hole.” 

44 You greenhorn ! why, would you care for that?” 

44 She’d think me in the neighborhood of perdition.” 

44 1 know you ’ye an excellent mother, Allen ; but 
must think her a little too careful of her son. She 
has taught you to believe, that if a young man once 
passes within the threshold of a coffee-house, he ’s at 
once upon the confines of ruin ; and should he con- 
sent to take the social glass, why then he ’s on the 
fast line to the devil !” 

‘‘Women often see danger where there is none,” 
gravely remarked Mr. Brown, who had had some expe- 
rience in sprees ; 44 1 ’ll tell you what, Allen,” he con- 
tinued, 44 if a young man wants to figure in the world 
he mustn’t be afraid of trifles. Come, now, here ’s a 
nice mellow horn — it ’ll make you feel just right.” 

44 Well then, since you will have it so, here goes ! ” 
said the lad ; and tossing back his head, quaffed the 
fiery liquid. 

44 Bravo! bravo!” cried his companions. 44 The 
goslin swallows well,” said one. 44 A few more like 
that,” observed another, 44 and, my word for it, he’ll 
think no more about his mamma’s advice.” 44 What’s 
the use taking anything to heart?” remarked a third. 
44 Let the world wag, and comets fall, if they have a 
mind to !” 

44 At anyrate we ’ll fire another round,” said Dem- 


102 


Danger in the Dark. 


ing; “it’s my turn to treat. What say you, b’hoys, 
shall we have something a little stronger?” 

“ The real baldface, if you like.” 

“ Well, content !” 

“ Anything, when a fellow ’s dry !” 

“Fill to the brim this time !” 

“ Now for it, my braves !” 

And clashing their tumblers together in token of 
friendship, they turned off simultaneously the intoxi- 
cating beverage. Before his heavy potations began 
to take effect, Alonzo felt keenly the goadings of con- 
science for the part he had acted in inducing young 
Allen to partake, so much against his inclination, of 
the poisonous draught; but these qualms only now 
prompted him to drink the more freely, till his moral 
sensibilities were drowned in the flowing bowl. As 
they continued to fill and drain their cups, sallies of 
wit and repartee flew vividly round the jolly circle, 
till the blue- devils were for the time quite vanquished. 

“ The St. Charles is a great institution,” observed 
the captain ; “ don’t you think so, Mr. Brown ?” 

“ Clearly of that opinion ! Fill up the glasses, old 
Blubber ! This is the road to distinction, and it lies 
open to every man ; here beggars become princes ! 
The Scottish bard was right — ‘Kings may be blessed, 
but Tam was glorious !’ Why need any man be poor, 
when three drams can make him rich ? Say, Carle- 
ton, suppose it be but imagination, don’t the miser- 
able mendicant forget his rags and his wretchedness ?” 

“But when he gets sober ” 


Danger in the Dark. 103 

“ Why, ’t is his inalienable right to get drunk 
again.” 

“ What if he have a wife and children ?” 

“N one of your preaching here — my doctrine is, 
let every poor devil take care of himself.” 

“ Suppose I had acted out that kind of doctrine,” 
said one at his elbow, “ the night you fell into the 
canal, too drunk to help yourself out ?” 

“O that alters the case, you know.” 

“How does it alter the case ?” 

“ Any one that has a spark of benevolence would 
protect an intoxicated man, when incapable of helping 
himself.” 

“ Yet leave his wife and children to starve — when 
that which should have bought them bread was ex- 
pended for rum to make him drunk.” 

“ Let us have no more controversy, but a little 
sprinkle more of old tangle-heels. Give us a mint- 
julep; then on top o’ that, a brandy sling, and you’ 11 
soon see this young man’s conscience become elastic 
as India-rubber, and quiet as a duck-pond! Fill well 
the glasses, and I’ll warrant you these moralizing 
notions will readily subside. Conscience is a trouble- 
some thing, but it never disturbs a liquor-seller ; say, 
an’t I right, Mr. Blubber ?” 

“ I ’ve been well of that sort o’ weakness many- 
a-day,” replied the corpulent gentleman, with a 
wheeze. 

An old bloat, with a beet-red nose, who had just 
entered, observed, as he was about to pour a bumper 


104 


Danger in the Dark. 


down his throat, “There’s nothing like a man’s ex- 
tinguishing himself.” 

“ Is that fellow one of us ?” muttered young Allen, 
staring at the besotted specimen of humanity, but 
rather too tipsy to see with perfect accuracy ; “ upon 
my word,” he continued, if he’s not extinguished 
pretty soon, he ’ll become a conflagration — his nose 
is even now in a blaze.” 

“Be sparing of your jests, young man,” signifi- 
cantly remarked the inebriate; “ you may one day be 
an object of derision yourself, for I perceive you ’re 
traveling the same' road that has brought me to the 
state I ’m in.” 

“Pray sir, inform me, what state are you in ?” 

“ In a state of rags and wretchedness, as you may 
see, unless too drunk to use your eyesight.” 

“It is with some difficulty, I must own, that my 
lookers perform their functions ; but by the aid of the 
lighthouse you carry upon your face, as a warning 
to tempest-tossed mariners on the sea of life, I ’m able 
to determine your whereabouts.” 

“Take the caution, then reckless boy, and beware 1” 

“I’ll try and steer clear of red-nose island;” said 
Allen, staggering toward the door and beginning to 
cast up accounts ; for his rebellious stomach protested 
loudly against the poisonous liquors that had been im- 
posed upon it in such extravagant quantities. 

“ Better make for cape-look-out then ; for I perceive 
you ’ve already got to puking sound ; and that ’s the 
route to bloat-belly-bay and rednose island.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


105 


u Ah! I’m only learning to face the music;” ob- 
served the lad, when he had sufficiently recovered his 
breath to speak ; “this is the way for a young man to 
figure in the world — they say.” 

“I’d been greatly obliged,” said the barkeeper, 
quite out of humor, “ if you ’d figured in the stree't ; 
I ’ve half a mind to kick you out of doors !” 

“ I beg pardon, sir, I thought this screen erected for 
the accommodation of gentlemen who prefer to puke 
unseen by the degenerate crowd.” 

“ I perceive you ’re a verdant youth.” 

“ Yes, I ’ve given ample proof of that, in being 
persuaded to drink your filthy rum ; well, I ’ve returned 
your liquors already mixed — you can make what dis- 
position of them you choose.” 

u Better not tempt me too far, you insolent cub !” 

“Ho, for there ’d be more liquor spilt, should you 
explode.” 

Saying which, Allen took his departure, under a 
shower of curses from the enraged barkeeper. 

“ Ah ! this is a wicked world !” said Carleton, stag- 
gering up to the bar, to drain another glass ; “we 
drink rum to cure ennui, which it never fails to make 
worse ; the unnatural elation is soon followed by a 
corresponding depression: then come infernal head- 
aches, dismal dreams and nightmare !” 

“Hang the fellow, he’s about to preach his own 
funeral!” said Frank Deming. “Wonder what he 
means by ennui — some more of his Latin, I suppose.” 

“ Explain to the ignoramus, Mr. Carleton,” re- 

8 


106 Danger in the Dark. 

marked one of the circle, “ we belong to the enlight- 
ening society, you know.” 

“ Even so ; well then, 1 will explain : now just im- 
agine yourself being steeped in a frog-pond, with a 
green scum over it, on a hot sunshiny day, and the 
empty parts of your skull filled up with the slime, 
wiggletails and tadpoles at the bottom — and you have 
some faint conception of ennui.” 

“ And will rum clear away the green scum ?” 

“Undoubtedly, and make the brain float on the 
surface like a blubber; but soon as the gas is ex- 
hausted, it sinks deeper in the slime than before ; and 
you think there’s a buzzard gnawing at your liver 
like a hungry hound.” 

“ Horrible ! Almost as bad as the delirium tre- 
mendous !” 

“Ha! ha! ha! That must be awful !” 

“ Perhaps the fellow means, delirium tremens.” 

“ Yes ; his father died of it, and a most frightful 
death it was ! Poor old man ! I saw him kick the 
bucket: he had reached the last round upon the 
ladder that lets sinners down to that place preachers 
tell of — I remember well his last words.” 

“ A prayer, no doubt ?” 

“ Ho, no, he had too much pluck to pray after living 
such a dare-devil life, his last words were these : 4 By 
jing ! this is going hell ward on a rough road !’ then 
uttering a horrid groan, as grim death cut short his 
breath, he struggled for a moment, as if grappling 
with fiends — and all was over.” 


Danger in the Dark. 10T 

“And here’s his hopeful son, Dick, going full 
gallop on the same road !” 

“ Don’t be alarmed for me,” remarked the self- con- 
fident youth, “ a few sprees never made a man a 
drunkard.” 

“That are a fact — as I’ve always said 1” observed 
the captain in a drunken tone, and so far gone that he 
hardly knew whether head or heels were uppermost ; 
“boys must sow their wild-oats continued he, “I’ll 
be bound, Dick will call a halt in due time, and cheat 
the devil out of the son, if he did get the father.” 

The spree was kept up till a late hour of the night ; 
Alonzo Carleton and James Brown, were the last in 
leaving the St. Charles ; nor would they have left so 
soon, although past midnight, had they not gambled 
away all their money, and then been turned out of 
doors by the barkeeper — who had a great aversion to 
drunken men, after their pockets were empty. 

Carleton was very much intoxicated, but not so 
drunk as Brown, whom ho had to assist in keeping on 
his feet. It being very dark, they lost their way and 
got into a dismal alley, where Brown fell down ; and 
in vain Alonzo tried to get. him on his feet again ; 
several times he got him nearly up, but as often man- 
aged to let him fall. Finally, Carleton chanced to 
stumble over a wheelbarrow ; the thought occurred to 
him immediately, that he could put his drunken com- 
panion on this very convenient vehicle and convey 
him home : so he rolled the helpless fellow upon the 


108 


Danger in the Dark. 


wheelbarrow, and started with him — not knowing 
however, what direction they were going. To add to 
their misfortunes, a violent thunderstorm came up ; 
the rain descended in torrents, and an occasional flash 
of lightning fell upon the overpowered sight with be- 
wildering vividness ; but driving ahead at a venture, 
the hapless wretches plunged heels over head into 
an old cellar, from which a building had that day 
been removed. This mishap added greatly to Alonzo’s 
confusion and perplexity of mind — gathering himself 
up, he gazed a moment upon the rent clouds above 
his head, whence proceeded loud, bellowing thunders ; 
then vociferated at the top of his voice : “A little 
more light — and not quite so much noise, up there !” 

“Hello! ’Lonzo — an’t We thunder-struck?” said 
Brown, who was lying underneath the wheelbarrow, 
more dead than alive. 

“ Worse than that — all the devils of the pit are let 
loose ! I ’m keen to swear we ’re not far from the brim- 
stone regions !” 

“ Well, then, it’s about time to liquor.” 

“ Agreed ! that reminds me of the flask you stuffed 
into my pocket — but just wait till I take a taste; 
delicious ! now, where are you, my fine fellow ?” 

“ Don’t know ; inquire down below.” 

After feeling round sometime in the dark, for his 
companion, Alonzo at length got hold of one of his 
legs ; and being too drunk to know the difference, 
gathered it up, saying — “Open your mouth you brain- 


Danger in the Dark. 


109 


less rascal and getting the neck of the bottle between 
his gaiter and boot, emptied the contents of the flask, 
therein. 

“ Look out there !” muttered- Brown. 

“ Does it strangle you ?” 

“ Yes, I ’m strangled.” 

“ Your neck ’s so plagued long, is the reason.” 

cc Just tie a knot in it, then.” 

The wretched inebriates, at length overcome by the 
stupefying effects of alcoholic drinks, fell asleep ; and 
the next morning found themselves in the watch- 
house. 


CHAPTER IX. 

The Conclave. 


That we may see more fully developed the charac- 
ter of the intriguing Jesuit, Dupin, it will be neces- 
sary to follow him into the recesses of a Jesuitical 
conclave. 

In a subterraneous apartment of the Cathedral were 
assembled a band of the order of Jesuits, to deliber- 
ate measures of policy. Among the number, Dupin 
seemed most conspicuous — and led off in the follow- 
ing speech : 

“Brethren of the holy order — in obedience to the 
head of the church, to the voice of the sovereign pon- 
tiff, God’s vicegerent on earth, we are bound to sub- 
ject this government to papal rule — at least, to do all 
that within us lies, to extend the dominion of the See 
of Borne over the whole United States of America ! 
To achieve this, to succeed in an enterprise so stupen- 
dous, will require deep-laid schemes, well directed and 
cunningly -devised plans — the utmost vigilance, pa- 
tience and intrepidity. Upon the Society of Jesus, 
in this country, his holiness the Pope, chiefly relies, 
as he assures us in his last bull, addressed to bishops 
and other clergy, for the uprooting of heresy and the 
extermination of incorrigible Protestants. How we 


Danger in the Dark. 


Ill 


are most successfully to wage war upon the enemies 
of God, and the contemners of the faith, is indeed a 
grave question, and one which it becomes us duly to 
consider. It is not an infant power, feeble and unre- 
sisting, that we are commissioned to bind; but a 
giant, strong and resolute! The time has not yet 
come, when we may meet Protestantism in the open 
field of battle ; such an attempt would be madness, and 
result in certain defeat! Some of our number are 
anxious that we unmask ourselves and baldly assert, 
and to the last defend the claims of the mother church. 
The folly of such a course,, we can scarcely fail to see, 
upon the cool reflection of a moment ! To illustrate — 
suppose any one of you should think of capturing 
that imperial bird, the American Eagle, what would 
be your plan ? Surely not openly to rush upon him 
in his eyrie? What would be the result of such 
temerity? why, with his terrible talons, he would 
grapple your flesh, and rising on his mighty pinions, 
swoop from the mountain’s brow and dash you head- 
long down the rocky cliffs to frightful depths below ! 
No, you would have more discretion and pursue a 
wiser policy : taking opportunity, when the proud 
bird was soaring aloft, with his eye fixed upon the 
sun, you would spread your toil, and silently await his 
coming — when unawares, he would find himself en- 
snared and within your power. 

“ A similar policy shall we find it necessary to pur- 
sue toward this great nation. Let not America see 
the papal chains that Rome sends to bind her with, 


112 


Danger in the Dark. 


lesf she rise in the majesty of her strength, and scorn 
them as the tempest scorns the hempen cord ! But 
stealthily and in the dark at dead of night, let us 
spread the snare ; and ere the people or their rulers 
are aware, have them entangled in our meshes : then 
let them extricate themselves if they can. 

44 Only by stratagem can we hope to succeed. With 
professions of friendship to the goverment, and the 
cherished institutions of the Republic, we must seek 
to allay suspicion ; and through enticing words and 
fair speeches, decoy and beguile the unwary ; and by 
flattery and fawning work our way to political power 
and influence. There are politicians to be bought, 
and that among the leaders of the dominant parties ; 
yes, we shall find editors too, and even preachers in 
Protestant ranks, who may be bought, and most of 
them at a small price ! 

44 What our order has achieved in other countries, 
why may it not in this ?. Beyond the Atlantic, Jesuits 
have revolutionized governments, convulsed nations, 
subverted empires, and dethroned kings ! and, in 
the meantime, moved silently and unobserved. Are 
we less capable of Jesuitical artifice? What’s to 
hinder us from overturning this Republic ? We have 
but to lay the fulcrum and lever in the dark ; and 
while we foment jealousies, and sow the seeds of dis- 
cord in various sections of the Union, adroitly man- 
age to lay the mischief on others, and ourselves put- 
ting on looks of innocence, come in to gather up the 
spoils.” 


I 


Danger in the Dark. 113 

Bishop Constantins, now rising, offered the follow- 
ing remarks: 

“Brethren of the Immaculate Society of Jesus: as 
has been well suggested, it is needful that we study 
expediency. The ends we aim at, will amply justify any 
available means • we must kindle the fires of conten- 
tion, distract and divide the Union, so that it fall an 
easy prey to papal power. At the present crisis, it 
may be well for some of the shrewdest of our order to 
disguise their faith, and identify themselves with vari- 
ous Protestant sects, and different political parties ; this 
will be calculated to give us immense advantage. We 
already see a clashing of interests between the north 
and south, which must tend to disrupture the bonds 
of the Union, and one day render it an easy matter 
to prick them on to a bloody conflict. Such a collision 
would bring about a state of things highly favorable to 
our designs : taking advantage of the chaotic elements, 
we might be able to mold a government to our liking. 

“ If any one’s conscience tell him such a policy 
would be wrong and unjust, let him be reminded that 
we owe no allegiance to the government of the United 
States ; no ties bind us to the free institutions of this 
country ; nor are we ever bound to keep faith with 
heretics. The principles of the Kepublic being wholly 
antagonistic to the teachings and doctrines of the 
Catholic church, we are justifiable in seeking its 
downfall. Whatever stands opposed to the church, 
we should never hesitate to strike down — whether 

republics or monarchies, presidents or kings ! ” 

9 


114 : Danger in the Dark. 

The Right Rev. Leo, who had but recently made a 
visit to Rome, next arose and said : 

“Holy brethren — the wide world nowhere presents 
a field so inviting to our order, nor opens a prospect 
so fair and flattering to us, as do these United States ! 
It is not, however, to be disguised, that in this mis- 
sionary field, so replete with interest, so rich, varied, 
and extensive, we have opposition to meet, and for- 
midable obstacles to surmount. The mad spirit of 
progress and reform, pervading and animating the 
masses; together with a wild, enthusiastic devotion to 
liberty ; a thirst for knowledge, and a disposition to 
throw open the portals of light to all of every class, 
are barriers in our way. The direst calamities threaten 
the church from this source. Cautiously to put a 
check on this rage to educate, will require all the wis- 
dom and ingenuity we are master of ; and it must be 
done. Education manifestly tends to lead the minds 
of the people from the true faith ; learning has been 
the mother of many heresies. Where the masses are 
the most illiterate, there the priesthood exert the 
most influence. Then, if we want to be revered, and 
have rendered to us implicit obedience, we must 
shut the gates that lead to the temple of knowledge, 
and prevent the spread of general intelligence. Chains 
of darkness are stronger than those of iron ! Do you 
doubt it ? look at Mexico ; South America ; at Can- 
ada — and look at all the Catholic countries of 
Europe! What gives to the clergy such unlimited 
control in these countries ? Unquestionably, the be- 


Danger in the Dark. 


115 


nighted condition of the people. Educate them, and 
they become self-confident, independent, and no longer 
want the aid of priests to find their way to heaven ; 
and what more do they care for the decrees of coun- 
cils, and the bulls of popes ; for excommunication, and 
the anathemas of the church ? It behooves us to stand 
ready to place an extinguisher upon every movement 
in favor of general education ; yet it must not seem 
to be our act.” 

Rev. Lateran, then addressed the conclave as fol- 
lows : 

“ Brethren — It must be apparent to you all, that 
Catholicism, in this country, is ranging itself under the 
banner of Jesuitism; and for the good reason, that 
our order has become the right arm, as well as the 
eyes and ears, of the Church ; and moreover, Jesuits 
have advantages here which they never enjoyed in 
any other nation ; however odious they may become to 
the American people, the government must still tole- 
rate the order. Beside, our policy is not so well under- 
stood, nor are we regarded with the same suspicion 
in this, as in many other countries. Then why may 
not the Society of Jesus gain a strength and wield an 
influence in America, equal, if not surpassing any- 
thing it ever attained in any other land ? ” 

Sundry other speeches were made by men of less 
ability, but developing kindred sentiments, and the 
same anti-republican principles. 


CHAPTER X. 


Political trickery — The Demagogue entrapped — Mr. Twist in a 
pucker. 

The Jesuit was by no means wide of the mark, in 
saying there were politicians in this country to be 
bought. A political aspirant of this class, who was 
constantly in market, and who had more than once 
been bought and sold, I here propose introducing to 
the reader : his name was Peter Twist. By the way, 
there must be something in a name ; but whether it 
were possible for Peter to have been a man of upright 
intentions, and go by the name of Twist, I shall not 
attempt to decide, having quite a different object in 
view in bringing him at this time before the public 
eye. 

Though an unpolished and coarse-minded man, and 
of decidedly limited capacity, Peter Twist was by no 
means an unsuccessful demagogue ; unscrupulous and 
time-serving, he never hesitated to sacrifice principle 
to party purposes, and readily lent himself to the 
basest schemes to gain the most trivial ends. He 
became the willing tool of Dupin, and a bitter enemy 
to Alonzo Carleton. A professed Protestant, he yet 

took sides with the priest party in all controversies 
( 116 ) 


Dager in the Dark. 


117 


between them and Protestants ; was the apologist of 
papal intolerance, and zealously defended the claims, 
extravagant pretensions, and arrogance of the Hier- 
archy ; eulogized Romish institutions ; boasted of Jes- 
uit schools, and lauded the clergy as the most learned, 
wise and holy men upon earth ! Dupin he held up 
as an immaculate saint and pattern of piety, and de- 
nounced as persecutors all who dared to express a dif- 
ferent opinion. When accused of double dealing, 
or playing the part of a sycophant, he would then 
very speciously plead liberality, and lay claim to an 
eminent degree of Christian charity; sternly deny, 
of course, being in favor of Romanism, or at all 
tinctured with the doctrines of papists, or the princi- 
ples held by the order of Jesuits ; but charity, Chris- 
tian charity, led him to respect the faith of Catholics 
as he respected that of Protestants. Marvelously con- 
venient is the mantle of charity when moral deformity 
needs a covering ; when villains would shield villainy 
they have but to say, charity ! charity ! and the repro- 
bate is canonized a saint! 

Peter Twist, being a candidate for office, one day 
in making an electioneering round, concluded to try 
his skill on Squire Delmont, whom he had learned 
intended to vote against him on account of his pander- 
ing to popery ; so, entering his office in a bland and 
familiar manner, he thus addressed the magistrate : 

“ Well, Squire, I ’m surprised to hear that you ’ve 
become a violent religious partisan l” 

“ Ah, indeed ! that is news to me alsq.” 


113 


Danger in the Dark. 


“ Then you deny the charge, Squire Delmont ?” 

“ I must first be converted to some religion, Mr. 
Twist, before I can become a partisan in any.” 

“You have, I am aware, long been considered a 
skeptic.” 

“ Avowedly such.” 

“ Then, of course, Catholics and Protestants are all 
the same to you, and you feel perfectly indifferent, no 
doubt, as to the controversies between them ?” 

“ Not exactly so, Mr. Twist ; as men and as citi- 
zens, Catholics and Protestants are the same to me 
when their deportment is the same ; but their princi- 
ples so widely differing, I must own that I am far 
from being indifferent to the controversies between 
Eomanism and Protestantism ; and politically, too, I 
have a preference for Protestants over Papists.” 

“ Yes, yes ; I perceive, after all, you are a religious 
partisan.” 

“ How so ?” 

“ I reckon it ’ll turn out true, as I ’ve heard, that 
you are uncompromisingly hostile to Catholics, and 
will vote for no man who has any charity for them.” 

“Hot hostile to ■Catholics as such, Mr. Twist; but 
am, in truth, uncompromisingly opposed to the anti- 
republican principles they hold and teach ; nor can I 
vote for any man who gives countenance to such prin- 
ciples.” 

“ In the political arena, the religious opinions of 
men should be lost sight of : at least that ’s my notion 
of things, Squire.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


119 


“ In many cases, I grant you, that would be right; 
religious opinions, however erroneous, may be of such 
a character as to have no injurious bearing in govern- 
mental operations; but again, they may be of such a 
nature as to revolutionize the civil government. Sup- 
pose we had a Catholic president and a Catholic 
Congress, how long would the people of the United 
States be allowed to worship God according to the 
dictates of their own consciences ?” 

ct Why should we be more apprehensive of pro- 
scription from them than from Episcopalians, Metho- 
dists or Presbyterians ?” 

“The reason is obvious : Papists maintain doctrines 
directly at war with the principles of our government. 
The denominations you have just mentioned do not. 
Papists deny that men have a right to worship'God 
according to the- dictates of their own consciences. 
They teach that the Catholic is the only true church ; 
and that without her pale there is no salvation. Then 
to be consistent, they cannot tolerate any other reli- 
gion than their own. You may say they are honest 
in their intentions, and sincere in their belief; all 
the worse for that — the more likely will they be to 
carry out the spirit of their doctrines, and the perni- 
cious and ruinous principles they hold. As to the 
Catholic faith being erroneous, and the rites and cere- 
monies of the church absurd, I care nothing, for that’s 
mere moonshine ; but this I look at, Pomanists crave 
the power to> crush every institution, civil and reli- 
gious, which is not in conformity to the narrow spirit 


120 


Danger in the Dark. 


of Popery. And as I have said, the more sincere, the 
more are they to be feared. Were all Roman priests 
infidels, as no doubt many of them are, and only 
making a pretense of religion for the sake of a liveli- 
hood, we might calculate on their being left to some, 
at least, of the restraints of natural sympathy, reason 
and conscience '^but believing Catholicism true and 
from heaven, they, in obedience to its voice and 
unnatural requirements, stifle the feelings of humanity 
and blind the eyes of their reason and conscience. 
Prom the real believers among papists, Protestants 
have suffered most ; they are the men who have been 
the scourge of the human race. Heaven help the her- 
etics and unbelievers that fall into their hands ! The 
more deeply a corrupt and inhuman faith enters into 
and imbues the mind, the more fearful and calamitous 
are the results ; for the surer it is to produce its legiti- 
mate fruits. What is there more terrible, and so much 
to be dreaded, as the religious fanatic when clothed 
with power! he is more to be shunned than a wild 
beast. Let me be cast into a den of lions, rather than 
delivered over to his tender mercies ! for, devouring my 
flesh, the voracious animals would speedily terminate 
my sufferings ; while the superstitious fanatic, to make 
me of the same opinion with himself, would study to 
prolong my agony by skillfully-contrived instruments 
of torture — destroying life by piecemeal ! And the hu- 
man beast would add insult to injury by piously aver- 
ring he tortured the body for love of the soul ! * * * 
* # The history of the Romish church shows but too 


i 


Danger in the Dark. 


121 


plainly what demons that system of superstition 
makes of men when its temper and spirit fully enter 
into their hearts. Happily we live in a land where 
such heartless bigotry dare not show itself — at least 
it ddre not openly show itself. 5 ’ 

“ Understand, Squire, I have no faith whatever, in 
Romanism ; nor have I any more friendship for Cath- 
olics than for Protestants— I treat all religionists 
alike.” 

“ I comprehend you, Mr. Twist ; and think I see 
clear to the bottom of your motives.” 

“Now then, good sir, suppose you undertake to 
divine my motives ; since you are so sharp-sighted 
and far-seeing.” 

“No difficult task, I imagine, will that be.” 

“ Then, the sooner done.” 

“ Well, since you urge me to it, I ’ll speak of your 
motives — and that right plainly.” 

“ Go on — both my ears are open.” 

“The short of the matter is — you want office ; and 
little care where the votes come from that may secure 
your election.” 

^Is that wrong ?” 

“^can hardly say it’s right— yet I know it’s 
commotf.” 

X i Would you, if a candidate, not be willing to re- 
ceive Catholic votes V 

“I should certainly scorn to purchase them, by 
helping to propagate their soul-withering superstitions, 
and becoming an apologist for the crimes of the clergy 


122 Danger in the Dark 

and abetting the despotic aims of an intriguing hier- 
archy.” 

“ That now is the unkindest cut of all ; come 
Squire, I ’m persuaded you do not mean as much as 
you say.” 

“ But little patience have I, Mr. Twist, with a man 
who professes to be a Protestant, and at the same time 
honors, befriends, and seeks to uphold and extend the 
influence of the order of Jesuits — a class of papists, 
who are the minions of the Pope and the most servile 
wretches on the face of the globe !” 

“ Strong language, Squire — but pray tell me what 
harm there is in Jesuitism, since you seem so heartily 
to detest that particular order of Catholics.” 

“ Jesuitism is the adversary of thought, of reason, 
of the affections — the adversary of all that ’s noble and 
praiseworthy in man ! Moral sterility, literary and 
social decrepitude attend it in every land ; it contests 
the independence of the human mind, and seeks to 
fetter the immortal faculties of the soul : full of 
treachery and deceit, it moves slily and stealthily 
through the earth, gaining in the darkness what it 
loses in the light. Jesuitism is also a machine of 
war — it must always have an enemy to combat- — with- 
out which, its prodigious combinations would be use- 
less. In this country it has Protestantism for an 
opponent; the latter, though not weak, wants the 
vigilance and activity of the former, hence, my serious 
apprehension. Unwaveringly attached to the past, 
Jesuitism is opposed to progress, alike in science, 


Danger in the Dark. . 123 

religion and politics. The mission of the order, in the 
sixteenth century, was to destroy the reformation; 
though unsuccessful, yet evidently it contributed much 
to retard the progress of reform. Jesuits, in this 
country, from motives of policy, profess to be the 
friends of light and knowledge ; but every reader of 
history knows, that for three hundred years in Catho : 
lie countries, they have been violent opposers of edu- 
cation and the general dissemination of knowledge. 
In France, when they thought themselves strong 
enough to crush the^ colleges, they unblushingly made 
the attempt ; and for one, I doubt not, that the pre- 
sent generation may live to witness a similar attempt 
in this country.” 

u Do not Jesuits take their name from Jesus ?” 

“ Yes ; but should have taken it from Judas.” 

“ Well, tell me something of the origin of the order.” 

“ Jesuitism was born in Spain, prepared in France, 
and developed in Dome : there it assimilated itself 
with the spirit of cosmopolitanism. In Spain, it only 
thought at first of the possession of the holy sepul- 
cher; arrived in Italy, it becomes more practical — 
does not stop with coveting a tomb — what it wishes 
for beside, is the living man, to make a corpse of 
him, that is, that he become in a certain sense, dead, 
and yield himself up a passive instrument in the 
hands of the Pope and his councils ; to be used or 
set aside at pleasure, just as a man would use a 
staff.” 

“How long has Jesuitism been in existence ?” 


124 


Danger in the Dark. 


“Something more than three hundred years.” 

“By whom founded ?” 

“Ignatius Loyola, a Spaniard, was the founder of 
the order. He appeared a short time before Christo- 
pher Columbus — was a remarkable man, and among 
his numerous followers never had an equal. The 
rules he prescribed for his adherents, were very differ- 
ent from those which he, himself, lived by. He 
taught the necessity of surrendering all independence 
of thought and action: in a book of his, entitled 
4 Spiritual Exercises,’ there is a rule thus conceived : 
‘If the authority declares, that what seems to you 
white, is black, affirm that it is black.’ This you 
may find on page 291, of the work referred to.” 

“Truly, Squire, I cannot say, but what you may 
have good reasons for your opposition to Jesuitism ; 
and very possibly I, myself, may find cause to change 
my opinion with respect to the order. In the mean- 
time however, when election day shall come round, 
which by-the-by, is now close at hand, I hope you ’ll 
not forget your old friend, Peter Twist! You and I, 
friend Delmont, are not so far apart in our notions of 
things, after all.” 

“There is some distance however, I imagine, 
between us, Mr. Twist.” 

“Well, well, we can easily waive, you know, such 
slight differences. In fact, Squire, to tell the truth, 
just between you and I, I’ve a strong notion to turn 
Native American ; and if that should happen — look 
out then — I’ll be death on Catholics !” 


Danger in the Dark. 


125 


“ You confess, yourself, then, playing at present, a 
dishonest game ?” 

“No, no, not dishonest; but we politicians, you 
know — well, you know — we have to be a little — ” 

“ Rascally !” 

“O no! not rascally — but you know — 55 

“Yes, I know; and very well know, that most of 
you will play any game, to compass political ends and 
be promoted in the ranks of party.” 

“Come now, Squire, that’s uncharitable.” 

“To tell the truth is uncharitable, I know — and 
it is even persecution, to tell the downright honest 
truth on a political juggler.” 

At this junction, Mr. Lyman Burbanks, an intim- 
ate acquaintance of the parties engaged in the above 
conversation, entered : he was a young man, remark- 
able alike for his shrewdness and great good humor ; 
quite a joker, he was exceedingly fond of getting a 
fellow into a tight place — especially one whom he felt 
a little antipathy toward ; not loving Peter Twist 
harder than a mule could kick, he particularly 
delighted in teasing him ; but now he had something 
more than a joke on the office-seeker, and chancing 
to discover him in the magistrate’s office, electioneer- 
ing the Squire, he thought it an opportune moment to 
open upon him. With a twinkle in his eye and 
affecting a seriousness he did not feel, he thus ac- 
costed the candidate : 

“ My worthy friend, Peter Twist, what think you ? 
I ’ve concluded to add to my political creed, the maxim, 


126 


Danger in the Dark. 


‘that all things are honorable in war;’ and have 
turned Jesuit during this campaign, and am working 
the wires for you in all sorts of ways !” 

Springing to his feet, not doubting the sincerity 
of his friend Burbanks, Peter grasped his hand, and 
shaking it most heartily, exclaimed : 

“ Good for you ! why, by the powers above, Lyman 
shall lose nothing by that operation ! That I am to 
number you among my friends, Mr. Burbanks, sur- 
prises me most agreeably ! Ah ! and you ’re a host — • 
‘can run through a troop and leap over a wall!’ 
I ’m growing sanguine of success ! We ’ll lick them so 
bad, they’ll hardly know themselves the day after the 
election ! Zounds ! I thought the thing would work 
right after awhile — the Squire here, has been rather 
opposed to me, but he’s coming round right fast. 
But tell me, friend Burbanks, you ’ve been "feeling 
about among the b’hoys, I suppose — touching the 
wires, I dare say, just in the right place ?” 

“O, certainly — been feeling about, cunning as a 
fox, and pulling the wires sly as a mink !” 

“ Pulling them for me ?” 

“For you? to be sure! to be sure! You’re the 
man, Mr. Twist, I ’m after — yes sir-ee, after you with 
a sharp stick !” 

“ That ’s it — put me through on the fast line ; you ’re 
a gentleman — every inch of you ! Come along now, 
and we ’ll go down to the St. Charles, and take a little 
of the o-be-joyful ! and then we ’ll talk further of this 
matter.” 


Danger in the Dark. 127 

“Please excuse me, Mr. Twist. I never drink intox- 
icating beverages.” 

“ Never drink ! O, but these are election times — 
you can just lay aside temperance, till this battle’s 
over ; it will make your tongue so Imiber to moisten 
it with a wee drop— come now don’t be churlish.” 

“But hold on — I havn’t explained to you yet, how 
gloriously this political affair is working.” 

“ No, certainly, let us hear. It’s working right I 
suppose ?” 

“ Right beyond a doubt — just as it should work.” 

“Have you pumped round among the Catholics 
any ? ” 

“ I ’ve pumped nowhere else !” 

“ And what do they say ?” 

“ Why, they are going for you to a man !” 

“ So much for them ! A Catholic vote, you know, 
counts as much as any other.” 

“ So it does ; well they ’re in for you, and no 
mistake.” 

“I was rather doubtful awhile about their going it 
strong ; but I guess now they will.” 

“It was that well-timed letter you wrote Priest 
Dupin, the other day, while you were out in the 
country, that did the work.” 

“ A letter ? ah !” Mr. Twist here shook his head 
at Burbanks ; giving him a hint to be silent on that 
subject. 

“ What,” said Squire Delmont, raising his specta- 
cles and looking inquiringly into the candidate’s face, 


128 


Danger in the Dark:. 


“ have you been courting the favor of that hypocriti- 
cal Jesuit, Mr. Twist, in this political contest ?” 

“ No, no, Squire, I never thought of such a thing ; 
no never !” 

“ Have you made no pledges to Dupin 

“ Pledges to a Jesuit priest! none whatever ; you 
would hardly accuse me of such a thing, I hope ?” 

“I should like very much, to see the letter.” 

“ I have it here, in my pocket, Squire ; ” observed 
young Burbanks — his black eye betraying with a 
peculiar twinkle, the mischievous thought in his mind, 
“if you desire, I will show it ; ” at the same time pro- 
ducing the letter, and handing it to Squire Delmont. 

“ Impossible !” exclaimed the astonished candidate ; 
“ it ’s a forgery ! a palpable forgery !” 

“ How did you happen to come in possession of the 
letter, Mr. Burbanks ? ” inquired Delmont. 

“ Being a particular friend to Mr. Twist, and pass- 
ing myself off for a Jesuit, upon some Irish Catholics 
who had the letter passing round among them, I per- 
suaded them to let me have the trouble of circulating 
it awhile ; and I’ve concluded it’s but fair that Pro- 
testants as well as Catholics should be allowed to see 
the magnificent document.” 

“ Traitor ! villain ! monster ! what kind of a game 
is this you are playing with me ? ” 

“Did you not just now sanction the doctrine, that 
all things are honorable in war ! If I am playing a 
game of deception, who taught it me ? ” 

“ Not I ; the letter ’s a forgery — a base forgery !” 


Danger in the Dark. 129 

44 How do you know it to bo a forgery ? you have 
seen it previously, we must infer.” 

44 But hold,” said the Squire ; 44 allow me to read it, 
and then make your comments.” 

Squire Delmont then proceeded to read as follows : 

“ My Dear Dr. Dupin : — 

44 You need no further assurance from me, than 
what you have already had, that I am your fast 
friend, and the devoted friend of the Catholic church ; 
and although not a Jesuit, yet doing all I can to bene- 
fit the order, and increase its influence among Pro- 
testants — ” 

44 A lie ! a lie ! ” exclaimed Twist, in a desperate 
rage, 44 1 never wrote such w r ords; it’s but a device 
of the devil, or somebody worse, to defeat my elec- 
tion.” 

44 Be patient, Mr. Twist ; hear it all.” 

44 Ho, I swear I won’t ! it ’s a lie hatched in hell to 
ruin my reputation ! ” 

“Wait, Mr. Twist; come, don’t get into a pucker, 
you must hear it through.” 

44 Get out of the door — I ’ll stay no longer.” 

44 Hold on to his coat-tail, Burbanks, until I read 
him the balance of this affectionate epistle.” | 

44 1 ’ve got him ; read away.” 

The Squire again reads : 

44 It has been my misfortune to be reared a Pro 
testant ; but no confidence have I in the Protestant 
religion, nor in the free institutions of this country. 

10 


130 


Danger in the Dark. 


Devoutly could I wish myself worthy a place in the 
holy Catholic church ; and had 1 power to put the 
helm of state, and the reins of this government into 
the hands of his holiness the Pope, most willingly 
would I do it.” 

“Let go, I say! Will you presume to detain me 
against my will ? ” 

“ Be calm, be calm, Mr. Twist, don’t, I pray, get 
into such a snarl; come, I insist that you hear more.” 

u 1 ’ll not stay to be insulted thus, and hear myself 
slandered.” 

“ What, has your own pen slandered you ? ” 

u I never penned it.” 

“ ’Tis in your own handwriting — familiar as your 
face ! ” 

“ Villain, I bid you let me go.” 

“ Bead on, Squire, I shall be able to hold him to it 
awhile longer if he don’t twist out of his coat.” 

“ I’ll twist your neck, you reprobate.” 

-Keep cool, Mr. Twist; turn round here, like a 
man, and face the music.” 

u This is beyond endurance ! ” 

“ Bead again, Squire, twist or untwist, he shall be 
compelled to hear read, what he had the hardihood to 
write. Bead loud and clear.” 

The Squire again reads : 

“Bev. Sir, 1 trust that my faithful and constant 
devotion to your interests, will not be forgotten in 
the day of my extremity. If the Catholic vote of the 
city be cast for me, I shall be elected — not without ; 


Danger in the Dark. 131 

now Rev. and very dear sir, it is for you to say, 
whether that vote shall be cast for or against me. I 
shall certainly expect you to turn the scale in my 
favor. 

“ And you will bear in mind that I lent you no 
little assistance in hoodwinking Mrs. Gerard, and 
putting you in a fair way to get possession of that 
large estate, for the benefit of the Catholic church. 
Beside, but for me, you would not so easily have got 
rid of Alonzo Carleton, who at one time was bent on 
assassinating you; through my interference he was 
prevented, and your precious life preserved. I now 
ask only to be remembered at the ballot-box. 

“ Your most humble servant, 

“ Peter Twist.” 

“Was ever a man so persecuted!” ejaculated the 
confused, and entrapped politician, as the Squire con- 
cluded the reading of the letter. 

“ Truly it ’s shameful persecution,” remarked Bur- 
banks ironically, “ to detect a man in his villainy ! 
That’s the kind of persecution Catholic priests com- 
plain of so loudly.” 

Without further apology, Mr. Twist took French 
leave. 

Soon after the election, we learn, he abandoned 
politics in disgust, and went into a patent-right specu- 
lation on churns and washing-machines. 


CHAPTER XI. 


Frailty of a good resolution — Alonzo’s gloomy reflections — A scene 

in the St. Charles coffee-house. 

Deeply stung with remorse and a sense of shame, 
Alonzo Carleton returned from his first spree, fully 
resolved in his mind never again to moisten his lips 
with strong drink. Alas ! good resolutions are not 
always kept : so it turned out with Alonzo. Though 
a young man of more than ordinary firmness and 
decision of character, having once yielded to tempta- 
tion, he found himself thereafter, easily disarmed and 
led away into paths of vice and dissipation. It was 
in a dark hour, oppressed with gloomy feelings, that 
he again thought of the inebriating cup ; to himself 
he said : 

“I must pluck from my breast this rooted sorrow, or 
else drown it by abandoning myself to habits of intox- 
ication! ***** The Jesuit has accomplished his 
purpose — equal to his expectations he must reckon 
his success ! Between Anna Maria and her lover, he 
he has effected a wide separation : the one, he has led 
from a happy home — from a sphere of usefulness and' 
the society of friends, into gloomy seclusion — shut 
out from all that renders life a blessing ! the other, 

driven to madness and dissipation! His perfidious 
( 132 ) 


Danger in the Dark. 


133 


designs are fully consummated — at least, will be, when 
he secures the remainder of the Gerard estate. For- 
tune favors the wretch ; were it not so, ere this he 
would have been the victim of my vengeance; nar- 
rowly did he escape me. But why indulge thoughts 
that only ferment the soul, and light within me the 
consuming fires of outraged feeling ? The evil is 
without a remedy ; let the past be forgotten ! yea, and 
the present too ! I ’ll prove Shakspeare false — 4 Who 
can minister to a mind diseased ?’ Rum says, 4 ’tis I!’ 
Well, to test the matter, I’ll go down to the St. 
Charles.” 

The first to greet him, upon entering the coffee- 
house, was hi§ boon companion, James Brown, whom 
he had not seen before, since the morning they were 
together let out of the watch-house. 

Alonzo drank with his associate, but with some 
reluctance. ♦ Being forcibly reminded of the disgusting 
scenes of the former spree, and discovering too that 
Brown was beginning to bloat, and his eyes inflame — 
fast putting on the appearance of a sot — it caused him 
to feel an inward misgiving. 

44 Friend Brown,” said Alonzo, 44 this is the first 
I ’ve drank since that horrid night we had the mis- 
fortune to be lodged together in the watch-house.” 

44 O cracky !” exclaimed Brown, 44 I ’ve been drunk 
a dozen times since that.” 

44 My dear sir, I was not before aware that you had 
really become a drunkard !” 


134 


Danger in the Dark. 


“ A drunkard ! do you intend to insult me ?” 

“By no means — come, Jim, don’t get out of humor — 
you called yourself a drunkard ; at least confessed 
having been drunk often enough to entitle any man to 
the appellation.” 

“ I get elated occasionally ; but never allow myself 
to be .called a drunkard.” 

“ You were somewhat elated, I imagine, the night 
I rolled you upon a wheelbarrow ?” 

“ And tumbled me down that confounded old 
cellar I” 

“ When a man is in the constant habit of getting 
drunk, Jim, I don’t know why he should not be called 
a drunkard.” 

“ But I don’t like the sound of the word.” 

“It doesn’t sound well, I confess — yet much better 
than the practice looks. To speak candidly, Jim, we 
are throwing ourselves away ; and should we follow 
up this habit a little while, it’s hard to tell what we 
may come to ; it don’t take a man long to brutalize 
himself.” 

“ See them good-looking fellows, tipping their 
glasses at the bar there — they ’ve been regular drinkers 
for years, and I can’t discover that they are yet bru- 
talized.” 

“ All are not men that wear the human form.” 

u No — for some are women.” 

u None of your whisky wit ; I ’m rather in a sober 
mood to-day J’ 


Danger in the Dark. 


135 


“You touched the cup too lightly — that’s what’s 
the matter ; when you want to be jolly, always fill to 
the brim.” 

“ I ’ve concluded not to stimulate any more to-day.” 

“ There never was a time, Alonzo, when you needed 
it more ; you look solemn as the night-side of crea- 
tion ! Come, my good fellow, don’t get too serious ; 
let us take a little more of the critter, then we ’ll dis- 
cuss this subject at length.” 

“ Wait awhile, Brown — you ’re good company when 
sober, but a most intolerable bore when intoxicated.” 

“ A dubious compliment, Mr. Carleton ; I hardly 
know in what light to take it.” 

“It matters but little whether you esteem it praise 
or censure. Sit you down here, and let us talk like 
men of sense.” 

“ That ’s the w T ay we are accustomed to talk.” 

“ Not always — when rum goes in, good sense steps 
out. What a blessing it would be to humanity, if 
intoxicating liquors were swept from the earth !” 

“True, intemperance is an evil — and one of no 
little magnitude; but there is no help for it.” 

“ There might be, if legislators would but do their 
duty.” 

“ What could they do toward exterminating the 
curse ?” 

“ A law might be passed, to prohibit the manufac- 
ture and sale of alcoholic drinks as a beverage.” 

“ What, in this free country ?” 

“Why not ?” 


136 


Danger in the Dark. 


“It would be an unwarrantable interference with 
the rights of freemen : never will it do to legislate 
upon the subject, in a republican government like ours.” 

u Have we not had legislation upon the subject ?” 

“Well, of course, we have certain laws in most, if 
not all the States, regulating the traffic.” 

“Then you must admit, that legislative bodies 
maintain the right to legislate on the subject.” 

“ But that, you see, is quite another thing.” 

“Why, if they have the right to legislate at all 
with regard to the traffic, and to grant license to sell 
the pernicious beverage, unquestionably they have the 
right to make a law prohibiting the vending and 
manufacture of the article.” 

“ The American people, Mr. Carleton, prize liberty 
too highly ever to submit to anything of that sort.” 

“Does true liberty know no restraint? Does 
rational freedom give loose rein to the passions of 
men, and the diabolical propensities of the wicked and 
reckless ? With such liberty, there would soon be an 
end to liberty! The very worst form of despotism, 
would be infinitely preferable to a liberty that would 
unchain the tiger, and let go the lion and hyena ! 
There are human-monsters, more to be feared than 
savage beasts ! Such reprobates turned loose upon 
society, with their lawless passions unchecked, what 
would become of the peace, order and harmony of 
society? Where would "virtue and religion find 
safety? and to whom would the weak and defense- 
less go for shelter and protection ?” 


Danger in the Dark. 


137 


“ Stop now, my friend, and look at it dispassionately 
for a moment: if legislative bodies, in this country, 
once begin to infringe the inalienable rights of the 
people, where will they find a stopping-place? Such 
a law as you speak of, would be tyranny — and as soon 
as enacted, open the door to despotism !” 

“All reasonable men know, and will admit, that 
individual rights must sometimes be sacrificed for pub- 
lic good : no considerate and virtuous citizen will at 
any time hesitate to waive his individual rights, 
where he sees that the same will be productive of 
adequate public good. In the operations of society, 
the greatest good to the greatest number is the leading 
aim. The governmental operations of society are 
based upon the sacrifice of individual rights. To 
assume that individual rights are infrangible, and 
must not be yielded in any case, is to paralyze all 
governmental action, and reduce us to the condition 
of barbarism. In such a condition as that, the rights 
of each individual are continually violated by the 
lawless impulses of the unprincipled ; and he is 
liable to greater injuries and oppression from the 
unprincipled, who are always in the majority, than he 
would suffer from any form of organized government. 
Then to protect our rights to life, liberty and the pur- 
suit of happiness, all should be willing to surrender 
a portion of their rights to organize a government in 
order to preserve the remainder — which, without such 
a surrender can have no security.” 

“But come at once to the point: we want no long- 
11 


138 


Danger in the Dark. 


spun metaphysical argument. The question is, would 
it be right for the government to restrain, by law, the 
sale and consumption of alcoholic beverages 2” 

“ Well, then, w’e come directly to the point : can 
we hesitate to admit that society has a right to protect 
its weaker members from the continual wrong and 
oppression which come of intemperance 2” 

u But you must remember the laws necessary for 
such protection restrain the whole community alike 2” 
“Is that a sufficient objection to their passage 2” 

“ Why not 2” 

“Has any one a right to place his individual com- 
fort and convenience as a barrier to the prevention of 
crime and the salvation of life 2” 

“ Upon my word, you are getting to be a real en- 
thusiast in the cause of temperance. Walk up to the 
bar and take another horn ; then, I dare say, you can 
give us a temperance lecture that ’ll be worth listening 
to.” 

“ Honestly now, friend Brown, if measures were 
taken to suppress, by law, the manufacture and sale of 
intoxicating beverages, I should certainly regard it as 
one of the greatest philanthropic movements of the 
age.” 

“ But see you not what injustice such a law would 
work to men who are engaged in the liquor business 2 
Take, for example, the proprietors of the St. Charles. 
Just look around at this elegant establishment, erected 
and furnished expressly for the purpose of retailing 
liquors, — many thousand dollars are here invested. 


Danger in the Dark. 


139 


That winding stairway you see in the center, that 
looks so much like a corkscrew, leads up to a billiard 
saloon, magnificently fitted out for the accommodation 
of gentlemen of leisure. Well now, you must see 
there is a great deal of money in an establishment like 
this. A prohibitory law, such as you talk of, would 
knock the whole business on the head, take from these 
men their livelihood, ruin their occupation, and reduce 
the value of their property !” 

“ Ah ! but where is your sympathy for the poor 
widows and orphans made such by this establishment ? 
the untold wretchedness and destitution caused by 
* the occupation of these men ; the scores and hundreds 
they ruin by their iniquitous calling ? You look not 
upon this picture, but have an abundance of tears to 
be poured out for the authors of so much mischief and 
misery — because, forsooth, in the event of the passage 
of a prohibitory liquor law, they would be compelled 
to abandon their worse than useless business ! You 
remind me very much of the tender-hearted French- 
man, who was one day traveling in a stage-coach 
through the hill-country of Kentucky, in company 
with a number of male and female passengers. The 
spirited steeds were dashing on in a sweeping trot. 
Now descending a short declivity, their speed was 
considerably accelerated ; immediately in the track, 
lying at his leisure, lazily chewing his cud, there 
chanced to be a little scrub-breed, crumply-horned 
bull. Being somewhat stupid in his habits of reflec- 
tion — not very unlike certain other animals I’ve 


140 


Danger in the Dark. 


known whose heads are hornless — he delayed his 
attempt to escape a little too late. Just as a sense of 
danger began to dawn upon him, prompting a des- 
perate effort to get out of harm’s way, the fore- wheel 
of the coach came unceremoniously in contact with 
his bullship, striking him plum between the horns. 
The coach upsetting, tumbled all the passengers down 
the hillside in a heap, horribly bruising and mangling 
women, children and men. The tender-hearted French- 
man to whom I have alluded, more fortunate than the 
rest, received no serious injury. Extracting himself 
hurriedly from the midst of the ruins, and without stop- 
ping a moment to look after his fellow-travelers, or to 
offer the least assistance to the crippled and helpless 
who lay suffocating underneath the dilapidated vehicle, 
he began to cry out in a most pitiful strain : 4 Poor 
little bull, me ’fraid him kilt! O poor little bull, me 
’fraid him kilt !’ ” 

44 What, now, has that bull story to do with the 
subject of our conversation ? Introduced for the sake 
of embellishment, I suppose !” 

44 See you not the application ?” ■ 

“No, I see nothing in it but the bull story, and 
greatly doubt that such a circumstance ever hap- 
pened.” 

44 Then, perhaps, I should have likened you not so 
much to the Frenchman as to hapless bull ; the first 
was remarkable for his misdirected sympathies — the 
latter for his stupidity.” 

“Just as you please to have it Mr. Carleton.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


141 


“ In case an anti-liquor law should be enacted, it 
seems you would be ready to feel the dint of pity for, 
and lavish your warmest sympathies upon, the dealers 
in alcoholic drinks — a class of men who are onty an 
injury to community, and who cause many a broken 
heart, as well as broken limb ! Like the weeping 
Frenchman, who bewailed the fate of the little bull, 
while he overlooked the sad disaster which had be- 
fallen his fellow-passengers, you look not at the wide- 
spread and melancholy desolation caused by the flow- 
ing out of this distilled poison over the land, but 
would bestow all your pity on the authors of the evil 
in case they were to lose money by the operation of a 
prohibitory law. Yes, your bottles of tears are ready 
to be poured out for the men who are instrumental in 
sending abroad and perpetually augmenting this dire 
curse — this sweeping, fiery tide of devastation 1 You 
would weep, not that thousands are crushed in heart 
and hope by the demon of intemperance ; weep, not 
that the lofty pillar of human dignity is oft broken 
down, and the grand superstructure of the immortal 
mind laid in melancholy ruins, but that the traffickers 
in strong drink should experience pecuniary loss by 
the drying up of the most prolific source of crime and 
human wretchedness ! For one, I should be in for 
taking care of the passengers, and leaving the un- 
lucky bull e unwept, unhonored and unsung.” 5 

“Now you imagine the subject fully illustrated, 
and made enough clearer than sunshine ! Who can 
foil to be convinced ? But say what you please, rum 


142 Danger in the Dark. 

is a good thing in its place, and sometimes very use- 
ful.” 

“ Yet, you will allow, it not unfrequently gets out 
of its place, and does a vast deal of mischief ?” 

u Notwithstanding, we should prize it for its many 
good qualities.” 

“ Let me hear you mention a few of its many good 
qualities ?” 

“You will hardly deny that it possesses certain 
properties which make the article useful ; why it pos- 
sesses medicinal virtues!” 

“ The same may be said of venomous reptiles : the 
rattlesnake contains an oil, which is good for particu- 
lar ailments ; yet would you justify any one of your 
neighbors, in entering upon the business of raising 
serpents — petting and caressing them ? In such a 
case you would, no doubt, complain to the authorities. 
It would hardly be sufficient for him to plead, that 
snakeoil was an excellent medicine ; especially if some 
of your particular friends had been bitten by the 
reptiles. Were such a thing to happen, I fancy there 
would be a general killing of snakes.” 

“But hold, my good fellow, I have an argument 
you can’t get round; it is simply this — rum will 
always let alone, those who let it alone.” 

“Do you say so % let us see : there stands a man 
on the opposite side of the house, with red eyes and 
bloated face — perhaps you know him ? at any rate I 
do ; he is a husband and a father : but a few years 
ago, that ragged wretch, whom you see there, looking 


Danger in the Dark. 


143 


so forlorn, was in easy and comfortable circumstances — 
enjoying the sunshine of prosperity; a happier family 
circle than his, I have seldom known : a change came 
over that happy family ; the wife and mother, once 
cheerful, content and loving, is now heart-broken, 
emaciated, and driven to desperation ! The children, 
once prized as jewels, are now neglected, and suffer- 
ing hunger and nakedness ; and their once 4 sweet 
home, 5 is now a picture of desolation ! And why all 
this ? Ah ! rum has been there ! rum has made the 
sad havoc — brought about the melancholy change ! 
Yet you say, rum will let alone, those who let it alone: 
did it let alone the unhappy wife and children of that 
poor inebriate ? Yet they let it alone ; never tasted, but 
forever detested the accursed thing ! In defiance of 
them, the monster visited their peaceful abode, rob- 
bing it of every charm, withering every joy — turning 
Eden to a hell! and causing thorns to spring up, 
where only sweet flowers were wont to bloom !” 

44 You ’ll certainly turn preacher pretty soon ; better 
take another dram — you ’re getting entirely too senti- 
mental. For my part, Alonzo, I intend making the 
best of this life, for fear it may be the last chance, 
and wherever I discover an opportunity for pleasure, 
I ’m bound to 4 pitch in !’ As for others, I ’ll not con- 
cern myself; let every man paddle his own canoe!” 

44 Too much selfishness in that; I envy not him who 
is content to pass through this sinful, suffering world, 
and leave it none the better for his having lived in it. 


144 


Danger in the Dark. 


Give me the man who lives not for himself alone,; 
but for humanity — for the world !” 

Alonzo drank no more that day, but yet eventually, 
by occasionally indulging in strong drink, he became 
the slave of an unnatural appetite, and gave himself 
up to drunkenness, revelry and gaming ; and very soon 
was reduced to poverty and utter destitution. In the 
meantime, several of his companions became con- 
firmed inebriates; and in little more than a twelve- 
month, James Brown died of delirium tremens. 


CHAPTER XII. 


The shrewdness of insanity — The poisoned chalice — Dupin’s leap 
from a window — The Lunatic escapes from the convent — Her 
singular adventure — Conspirators punished — The haunted cell. 

¥e return again to the convent. 

The insanity of Isadora Norwood was peculiar: her 
reflections, at times, seemed profound, and her percep- 
tion remarkably acute; yet she had frequent speUs 
of raving madness, at which times, she was apt to 
make disclosures that gave no little uneasiness to 
certain priests, who habitually visited the convent. 
Dupin was particularly solicitous that she might have 
no chance of uttering things she ought not, in the 
presence of Anna Maria Gerard and ArabeUa May. 
His continual fears upon that subject, led him finally, 
to resolve on giving her a quietus. To carry out his 
design, it was necessary for him to have the assistance 
of the Abbess ; and well knowing that she would 
readily enter into his designs, and might safely be 
trusted, he sought an opportunity of secretly disclos- 
ing his intentions to her, and concerting a plan for 
administering the poison. ' The maniac’s suspicions 
being aroused, by what she had observed of the man- 
euvering of Dupin, she one evening slily stole into 
. ( 145 > 


346 


Danger in the Dark. 


the apartment of the Superior, near the hour which 
the priest was in the habit of making his nocturnal 
visits, and concealed herself. Thus secreted, and 
remaining perfectly silent, Isadora overheard all that 
passed between the Abbess and Dupin with regard to 
herself, and the plan they concluded upon for putting 
her out of the way. Managing to escape their obser- 
vation, she shrewdly kept dark — but in her heart 
meditated revenge. 

On the following day, Dupin entered Isadora’s room 
with the poisoned chalice in his hand ; the unhappy 
lunatic was prepared for the event ; and had seated 
herself near the window of her apartment, which she 
had thrown open. 

“My dear child,” said the priest, affectionately, “I 
have here a remedy for the melancholy affliction that 
has fallen upon you ; drink this, and you ’ll be well.” 

Seizing the cup, she dashed it upon the floor ; then 
with a seemingly supernatural strength, not uncom- 
mon to insane persons, she grappled the priest, and 
hurled him headlong out of the window ! falling near 
twenty feet, he was badly bruised, had one eye put 
out, and for a time was rendered insensible ! Isadora 
immediately fled from the convent, and went to the 
residence of Mr. Glenn. The Glenn family, having 
known her from childhood, and being aware that she 
had taken the vail, were greatly surprised to see her 
out of the cloister ; she was received with sympathy 
and affection, and listened to with eagerness and in- 
tense interest, while she incoherently related what had 


Danger in the Dark. 


147 


transpired, and caused her to violate her monastic 
vows. Now made conscious that she was among 
friends, and surrounded by those who loved and cared 
for her, she rapidly improved in the condition of her 
mind, and soon became quite rational. Learning 
from Enola Glenn, the history of the love affair 
between Anna Maria Gerard and Alonzo Carl^ton, 
Isadora resolved on making an effort to rescue Anna 
Maria from her state of seclusion. She avowed her 
intentions to Enola, who was not wholly incredulous, 
as to the success of her scheme, and manifested some 
disposition to encourage her in it. The plan conceived 
by Isadora, was, to return to the convent under pre- 
tense of penitence, and a wish to be forgiven for her 
rashness and the injury she had inflicted upon the 
priest ; and if successful in obtaining forgiveness, to 
avail herself of the first opportunity she possibly could, 
of seeking an interview with Anna Maria, and trying 
to prevail upon her to forsake the gloomy cloister. 

Enola and her mother felt a little scrupulous as to 
the justifiableness of the deception which had neces- 
sarily to be practiced in carrying out the project; 
nevertheless, waiving their scruples, they expressed a 
willingness that Isadora should make the adventure. 

Before proceeding further in this direction, the 
reader may be curious to know what more happened 
to Dupin after his terrific fall. The catastrophe pro- 
duced great consternation among the inmates of the 
convent: mangled, bleeding, and almost lifeless, the 
unfortunate priest was carried in, and every possible 


148 


Danger in the Dark. 


exertion made, to speedily restore him to conscious- 
ness ; for a time it seemed dubious, and his recovery 
was almost despaired of, but as bad and worthless 
men are hard to kill, Dupih’s end had not yet come. 
Signs of returning life at JU»gth appeared, and he 
gradually recovered from the effects of the desperate 
fall, excepting the loss of his right eye, which it was 
found impossible ever to restore to sight. 

# '* . # # # # % % 

After the lapse of several weeks, Isadora returned 
to the convent with her mind made up to dissemble ; 
hoping that, by feigning penitence and a spirit of 
submission, she might have granted her such priv- 
ileges in the convent, as would afford her the chance 
of enticing away Anna Maria. She was met at the 
convent gate, by the Abbess, whose pardon she hum- 
bly craved ; alleging insanity as the cause of her dis- 
obedience, and the great crime she had committed in 
injuring the priest ; she also promised implicit obedi- 
ence, if they would but permit her again to enter the 
cloister. 

The Superior informed her that it was necessary 
first to ask the advice of Mr. Dupin ; and bade her 
go and return on the morrow; at which time she 
could have an answer. 

#**#■*.*.## 
Dupin, being informed of Isadora’s penitence, and 
proposition to return to the convent, discovered a dia- 
bolical pleasure, and rejoiced in the prospect of being 
afforded an opportunity to be revenged. 


Danger in the Dark. 


149 


u Admit her,” said he to the Superior, u but give 
her no hint that I intend wreaking mj holy vengeance 
on her guilty head, lest she be deterred and escape my 
fury. Give the reprobate a cordial welcome to the 
cloister ; then let me be notified, and I will come and 
deal with her as she deserves. 4 An eye for an eye ! 5 
he growled significantly, in an undertone, as he 
turned away, putting on a look of dire revenge. 

On the following day, Isadora again appeared at 
the convent gate ; the Abbess greeted her with a 
hypocritcal smile, and gave her a cordial welcome, 
saying : 

44 It gives me infinite pleasure, dear one, to see you 
so penitent, and anxious to return to this place of 
holy rest. Your confessor too, is overjoyed to hear that 
you regret your error, and have become obedient.” 

Seeking out Anna Maria, whom she found in com- 
pany with Arabella May, Isadora embraced them 
tenderly, and without giving them time to congratu- 
late her upon her return, said : 

“Will you allow me, my loves, to say a word to 
you in confidence ! ” 

44 We will,” they each replied. 

4< Shall I have the utmost confidence that you will 
not betray me ? ” 

44 You may,” was the quick response. 

44 Then I’ll speak freely to you both, and without 
reserve unbosom my thoughts and wishes.” 

44 Talk in a low tone,” whispered Maria, 44 for 
these apartments sometimes have ears.” 


150 


Danger in the Dark. 


“ ’Tis even so, but my excited state of feeling, 
caused me to forget it. Lest we be interrupted by 
some intruder, I ’ll hasten to disclose what I have to 
say: ’tis this — I’m now. deeply convinced, that 'the 
unnatural and irrational vows we have taken are not, 
in the sight of God, binding upon us, and may be 
cast off without committing sin. Life, in this dismal 
place of seclusion, is useless and unprofitable — ’tis a 
blank — nay, a grievous burden ! By watching for a 
suitable opportunity, we may easily make our escape.” 

Maria and Arabella were greatly astonished at these 
remarks, and the startling proposition of Isadora, for 
them to disregard their vows and fly from the convent. 

“ O say not, Isadora, ’tis a light matter to violate 
our holy vows, and return to the world we have sol- 
emnly abjured !” said Arabella feelingly, at the same 
time making upon her breast and forehead the sign of 
the cross. 

Miss Norwood reasoned with them at some length, 
and urged many arguments why they should abandon 
the gloomy and unhappy life they were leading. Ara- 
bella, perceiving in Anna Maria Gerard a disposition 
to heed the persuasions of Isadora, said to her : 

“Think of it, sister Anna, the ihimortal soul is at 
stake ! should we break our vows, we thereby barter 
heaven for hell — exchange endless joys for intermin- 
able woe ! Shall we consent to peril our eternal sal- 
vation, for the sake of earth’s short-lived joys \ What 
madness ! Transient in duration, and unsatisfying in 
their possession, are the brightest, treasures this world 


Danger in the Dark. 151 

can bestow ! The giddy cnp of pleasure exhilarates 
for a time — but if to sip it we must incur eternal 
sorrow, can we think of putting it to our lips ? O, no ; 
let us dash it from us, and consent to a life of obscu- 
rity, sorrow, and sighing, that we may gain heaven 
hereafter.” 

“Arabella, with what impatience,” said Anna 
Maria, “have we thus far endured this imprisonment! 
we have felt it to be intolerable ; at best we here ren- 
der but an unwilling obedience.” 
i “ Alas ! I know we have'been recreant, and guilty 
of murmuring against providence ; but forced obedi- 
ence, is better than to disobey.” * / 

“I’m not so sure of that ; true, a forced obedience 
to civil law, may be better for the community than 
disobedience ; but at the same time, those who obey 
the commands of law through sheer constraint, and 
only to avoid the penalty, deserve no praise ; there is 
surely nothing meritorious in such obedience.” 

“Be not deceived, Maria, we have taken volunta- 
rily these weighty vows upon us, and we must learn 
to endure the life they impose. Were every day of 
our life on earth full of sunshine, and replete with 
thrilling pleasures, when past, it would be but a 
golden dream, a gilded vision ! and what would the 
splendid enchantment be worth, when succeeded by 
an unending night ; sunless, moonless, starless night ! 
Better far, our whole livesbe a continued scene of dark- 
ness, poverty, and pain, if thereby we escape perdition.” 


152 


Danger in the Dark. 


u But why should such a life conduce to our salva- 
tion ? that is the question.” 

44 The reason, we cannot give, but divinely commis- 
sioned priests teach us, that voluntary suffering is the 
most acceptable service in the sight of God that mor- 
tals can render.” 

44 So taught not the Saviour of the world ; ” 
remarked Isadora, 44 but rather the doing of good -to 
our fellow-beings, visiting the fatherless and widows 
in their afflictions, clothing the naked, feeding the 
hungry, visiting the imprisoned, and ever delighting 
to administer to the poor and needy. 4 As oft 5 said 
the blessed Redeemer, 4 as ye did it unto <*n e of these, 
ye did it unto me.’ Unhappy soids ! ” she continued, 
gazing upon them with a look t|iat betokened deep 
emotion of heart, while her eyes filled with glistening 
tears, 44 how to feel for you, well do I know : the cruel 
chains that bind your faculties, once fettered mine; 
but alas! how difficult to strike from the soul. the 
manacles of superstition ! Oh why should the enjoy- 
ment of earthly blessings, be thought incompatible 
with a life of holiness! No longer, I entreat you, 
turn away from the innocent pleasures which your 
pure, warm hearts so much crave ; fear not forfeiting 
heaven by making yourselves happy. If the pleasures 
of sense, as priests pretend, corrupt the soul and lead 
to perdition, why is it that such austerity as you are 
required to practice, is not enjoined upon- all f Why 
is not the monastic life necessary to save other Oath- 


Danger in the Dark. 


153 


dies as well as yon? How do priests themselves 
escape the deleterious effects, corrupting and damning 
influences of worldly enjoyment and sensual pleas- 
ures ? They teach self-denial to others, but when do 
they practice it' themselves ? They would have us 
believe, that such as are called to be saints, and to 
seclude themselves from the world, are favorites of 
heaven — and should rejoice in being accounted 
worthy to forego all earthly happiness for heaven’s 
sake, and the enjoyment .of eminent seats in the 
realms of glory on high ! At the same time, how- 
ever, are disposed to take for themselves no small 
portion of comfort in this world, even if it should be 
at the expense of getting less in the next. They prom- 
ise you heaven upon the hardest possible conditions, 
but go themselves c on flowery beds of ease.’ ” 

The conversation was now broken off by the appear- 
ance of Dupin, who taking Isadora by the hand said 
to her, “ Go with me to the confessional and he led 
her forth, down a winding stairway to a subterraneous 
cell, the door to which fastened by a spring lock, and 
could only be opened from the outside. Isadora had 
yet made no resistance, but fearful apprehensions and 
a terrible foreboding seized upon her mind, and she 
felt that her insanity was returning upon her with a 
sudden stroke. As Dupin flung back the door, Isa- 
dora discovered the Abbess within, arranging instru- 
ments of torture. In a moment her brain was on fire, 
and a reckless madness rushed upon her! With it 

came the supernatural strength of the maniac; sud- 
12 


154 


Danger in the Dark. 


denly grasping the priest, like a furious tiger, she 
thrust him forward headlong into the cell, and before 
he had time to recover caught the door and brought 
it to with a slam, making secure both the priest and 
Abbess ; then fleeing, she returned to Mr. Glenn’s, 
and, under the influence of a wild excitement, related 
the story of her exploit to the no little amusement of 
the family. 

*•##### 

As not one of the nuns had been apprised of the 
cruel intentions of Dupin and the Superior, none could 
divine whither they had gone, what had become of 
them, nor why they were detained. Several days 
passed by ; a great wonderment existed ; and a thou- 
sand conjectures were made by the inmates concerning 
the mysterious disappearance of Dupin and the lady 
Abbess, but no satisfactory explanation could be given. 
Strange noises were heard, dismal shrieks and howl- 
ings, it was said, seemed to issue from the depths of the 
earth underneath the convent. This filled every mind 
with alarm and superstitious fears ; nor could any be 
found bold enough to venture down the winding stair- 
way in search of the cause of these subterranean voices. 

At length one of the father-confessors, being in- 
formed of the unaccountable absence of Dupin and 
the Superior, and also of the hobgoblin bowlings that 
had been daily and nightly heard about the premises, 
visited the convent, and heard with his own ears the 
mysterious voices. Deciding that the strange sounds 
were the wailings of damned ghosts, he made imme- 


Danger in the Dark. 


155 


diate preparations for exorcism. Collecting all the 
nuns together, he sprinkled holy water upon them; 
said mass ; and then placing a lighted candle in the 
hands of each, himself taking a crucifix and holding it 
up before him, bade the nuns follow close at his heels. 
•Thus arrayed, and armed to the teeth with spiritual 
power, they proceeded to the underground apartment 
of the building ; drawing near to the fatal cell, they 
heard low moanings, which seemed to come from 
within. The priest advancing to a position within a 
few paces of the door, his hair standing on end, and 
his whole frame quaking with fear, he said : “ In the 
name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, what art 
thou?” 

“ A priest 1” responded a hoarse, sepulchral voice ; 
and then came a thumping upon the door. “ Heaven 
and earth !” exclaimed the terror-stricken father-corn 
fessor; and dropping his crucifix, he wheeled about 
and took to his heels with all possible speed, followed 
by the no less frightened nuns, who scampered like a 
flock of wild deer ; making sure the devil was bring- 
ing up the rear. When they had reached a place of 
safety, they all huddled together to talk of the won- 
drous affair. 

“Think not strange that I fled,” said the confessor; 
“ if there had been nothing more than the ordinary 
spirits of the damned, I should easily have banished 
them !” 

“ What was there beside, holy father ?” inquired 
one of the nuns. 


156 


Danger in the Dark. 


“Why, the old devil himself was there !” 

“You don’t say so t” 

“ Yes, I do ; didn’t yon hear him say, ‘A priest V ” 

u What meant he by that V 9 

“Why, he meant me , to be sure ; and if I had not 
taken flight he would have had me in a moment.” 

u What will become of us ?” 

“ I will go right away and bring Bishop Constan- 
tius, for the devil always yields to a Bishop.” 

“ Holy Yirgin Mary, defend us ! How can we 
stay here, Father Delaney ? Suppose the devil were 
to appear in your absence ?” 

“ Better so than in my presence.” 

“ Why better ?” 

“I never could brook the devil. 

“ Nor I, holy father.” 

“ All of you say prayers incessantly till I return, 
and nothing shall harm you.” 

And off he went in breathless haste for the Bishop, 
whom, when he found, he greatly terrified with the 
relation of the marvels thatch ad transpired . Collect- 
ing a number of the inferior clergy around him, to 
assist in vanquishing his “ Sooty Majesty,” Constan- 
tius ventured to make his appearance in the convent. 
With much pomp and solemnity they celebrated 
mass ; then forming a procession, as thpy had done 
before, the nuns bearing lighted tapers in their hands, 
and each priest a crucifix. Bishop Constantins, how- 
ever, armed himself more thoroughly than had Father 
Delaney ; in his left hand he carried a golden cross 


Danger in the Dark. 


157 


and in his right a drawn sword. Now bravely lead- 
ing his spiritual army to dubious battle, he proceeded 
to the haunted cell. Marshaling his ranks before 
the threshold of the little subterranean prison, all 
knelt down in solemn silence, making the sign of the 
cross on the forehead and breast ; then the Bishop, 
in a loud, authoritative voice, commanded the evil 
spirits, in the name of the Holy Trinity, to depart. 
It occurred to the minds of the sufferers within, that 
it might turn out to their advantage, this time, to keep 
silent, for fear again of frightening aw T ay those whom 
they hoped would have courage to open the door of 
their horrid prison. 

Hearing nothing, Constantius now declared the 
wicked spirits exorcised, and commanded Father De- 
laney to advance and open the door. Pale and trem- 
bling, the cowardly priest obeyed. No sooner did 
the door swing back, than Dupin staggered forth, 
haggard and ghastly, and after him the Abbess in 
similar plight. Delaney swooned ; the nuns shrieked ; 
most of the priests fled in dismay ; the Bishop bravely 
drew his sword, being too much petrified to run ; but 
Dupin was not long in giving him to understand that 
he was confronted by real flesh and blood. The mys- 
tery was hastily explained, and the starved, famishing 
wretches speedily furnished with nourishment. 


Alonzo goes to the wilds of the West — Sojourns with a hermit— 
Learns his history — Profits by his advice and conversations. 

Prior to the events we have just related, Alonzo 
Carleton had left the Queen city for the far West. 
His chief motives were, to get rid of his dissipated 
associates, and to place himself beyond the reach of 
the temptations to intemperate habits, that constantly 
surrounded him in the city. Having made up his 
mind to reform, yet conscious of his weakness, and 
liability to be led astray by his drunken companions, 
he felt that there was security alone, in taking his 
remove to a strange land. Plainly equipped, and 
mounted on an elegant horse, he bade adieu to the 
endearments of home, as well as the vices of city -life; 
and turning his face westward, set out for the region 
of prairies, buffaloes and Indians. 

##*#&**# 

Away beyond the wide Mississippi, a lone and 
weary traveler, after many days’ journeying, Alonzo 
chanced upon the sequestered, picturesque and roman- . 
tic spot of Wildwood-vale — so named by its solitary 
inhabitant, Norwood, the hermit. There in the 
evening of life, had an old man, weary of the world, 

sought quietude and repose for his remaining days. 

( 158 ) 


Danger in the Dark. 


159 


Lofty forest-trees threw their deep shadows o’er the 
hermit’s domicile ; luxuriant ivy clustered upon the 
moss-grown roof, and the honeysuckle clambered 
along the walls, and about the little windows and 
door-posts of his quiet habitation — imparting to it an 
air of enchantment. 

A cordial welcome greeted the stranger, for no mis- 
anthrope was the hermit. Yielding to his kind 
solicitations, Alonzo tarried many days in Wildwood- 
vale, enjoying the fascinating conversations, and par- 
taking of the generous hospitalities of the eccentric 
philosopher. Curious to know, why he had chosen 
a life so secluded, cheerless and solitary, Carleton 
desired him to relate something of his history — to 
which the hermit readily consented. * # * # It was 
in the cool of the evening, on a serene day in June, 
seated at the door of his humble cottage, underneath 
a little vine-clad arbor, with Alonzo by his side, the 
man of silver hair began to speak of the days of 
other years — dilating upon life’s light and shade — its 
vicissitudes— the checkered scenes through which he 
had passed, and what experienced of good and ill. 

“ Think not, my youthful friend,” said he, “ Orlando 
Norwood has learned to despise the world, and hate 
the human-race — and therefore, cut himself off from 
the society of his fellow-man ; aught of ill-will to 
mortal, I cherish not — but fain would bless every 
living creature, and make happy all this wretched, 
suffering world : I know there is something more, and 


160 Danger in the Dark. 

other, on the earth, than impiety, falsehood, hatred, 
oppression and infamy. Nor have I quailed before 
the dark waves of adversity, and cowardly fled from 
the conflict ; when youth* and vigor were mine, I 
mingled with the busy, striving world, and in life’s 
great battle-field, bared my bosom to the storm ! But 
now the frosts of many winters have descended on 
my wasting locks ; whitened and trembling, they hang 
upon my drooping head ; the weight of years, toil and 
grief, bow me toward the earth, on whose cold breast 
soon I’ll lay these weary limbs to rest. Why should 
my heart any longer be vexed, beholding human woe, 
wickedness and folly, since I have neither power to 
prevent crime, nor alleviate the miseries that afflict 
humanity ? I beheld age stealing on, and felt that 
the seared leaf would soon fall to the ground — then 
said I — let my sun set in peace — I will seek solitude. 
* * * * Withdrawn from scenes of strife, jarring dis- 
cord, the abodes of suffering, and the dwelling-places 
of unrighteousness, amid these solitudes, when it shall 
be heaven’s will, I trust, calmly and peacefully, to 
close my eyes to all of earth — commending my spirit 
to God, who gave it.” 

Here pausing, the Hermit seemed to glide into a 
revery, and for some moments remained silent and 
abstracted, then, soliloquizingly, said, in a low tone : 

“ Now is the dewy hour of fading light and fold- 
ing flower; I love the twilight— the pensive twilight— 
so solemn ! so holy ! so still ! Then think I of the 


Danger in the Dark. 


161 


dear departed shades that have gone to rest, and 
almost imagine I see, in the dusky air, their bright 
spirits lingering near* 

“ Pardon me, friend!” said he, suddenly rousing 
from his dream, “my thoughts were wandering. 
May it be yours to drink less of the cup of sorrow, 
and enjoy more of life’s sunshine, than have fallen to 
the hermit’s lot !” 

“ But for the story I was about to relate : From 
New England, almost a quarter of a century ago, I 
emigrated with my family, all of whom were then 
living, to Cincinnati, where for years we were content 
and happy. Relentless death, that sooner or later 
comes to all, entered our abode and thinned our cir- 
cle ; and now, in a graveyard of the Queen city, sleep 
all that circle, save myself and one other ; that one is 
buried alive! ‘doomed to death, yet forbid to die.’ 
I would to God she were sleeping with the rest !” 

Now the aged sire covered his face, and wept. 

Impatient to hear more, Carleton begged him to 
proceed. Resuming his story, he said : 

“ It was our only surviving child — a precious 
daughter, and in the most interesting period of her 
life ; her mother’s heart and mine were set upon her ; 
alas ! ’twas more cruel than death ! — a religious de- 
lusion fastened upon her tender mind; she turned 
unfeelingly from the embrace of fond parents, ab- 
jured the world, and shut herself up in a Convent ! 
Too heavily fell the dreadful stroke on her mother’s 

heart ; driven to insanity, she died a raving maniac ! 

13 


162 Danger in the Dark. 

Poor Isadora ! ere this, I doubt not, she repents the 
fatal step.” 

“ Isadora, her name ?” inquired Alonzo eagerly. 

“ Yes, Isadora Norwood responded the hermit. 

“ I ’m familiar with her history.” 

“With Isadora’s history ?” 

“Yes, but knew not before, that her father was a 
hermit.” 

“ She knows not that I am living. Of whom did 
you learn her history ?” 

“ Enola Glenn told it me.” 

“ Enola ? precious girl ! when a child I knew her 
well. Does she say Isadora’s still living ?” 

“When last I saw Miss Glenn, she had nothing 
heard to the contrary.” 

“Oh, had I but given heed to the wise counsel of 
Enola’s mother , my daughter might have been saved 
from the cloister, and the shackles of papal supersti- 
tion ; she faithfully warned me against the danger of 
sending her to a Romish school ; but too late was I 
convinced of the folly and blindness of my course.” 

Alonzo was now induced to speak more freely of 
his own history and misfortunes ; he related the story 
of his love and disappointment, and how he was led 
into infidelity and dissipation. The sad history 
touched the hermit’s heart, and led him to counsel the 
youthful Carleton, with all the solicitude, tenderness 
and affection of a father. 

“ Allow not,” said he, “ the abominations of Popery 
to drive you from that religion which is pure and 


Danger in the Dark. 163 

undefiled, nor cause you rashly to discredit the word 
of God.” 

“ When I see the vilest of men,” remarked Alonzo, 
u claiming to be divinely commissioned to rule the 
earth, enlighten the blind, guide the erring, reclaim 
and save the lost, I must confess myself tempted to 
repudiate all religion. If history speaks the truth, 
priests in every age, with here and there a rare excep- 
tion among their number, have been the most corrupt 
and heartless men upon the face of the earth ! Now 
if the Bible sanction their lives and conduct, as they 
would have us believe, why then it sanctions crime — 
the worst of crime ! how then can rational minds 
believe it ? If Christianity fails to improve the lives 
of those who profess it, what is it worth ?” 

“ Mistake not Romanism for Christianity, I earn- 
estly entreat you ; neither believe Catholic priests, the 
true ministers of Christ. To find excuse for their 
crimes, vile and abominable men may pretend to 
shield themselves behind the Bible, and have the pre- 
sumption to claim its sanction ; but rest assured, that 
book gives no countenance to unrighteousness, nor 
approves aught that ’s unholy.” 

“ But why, allow me to ask, if it be of God, is it 
so easily perverted, and rendered impotent and inef- 
ficient by wicked men?” 

“ See you not, that all of heaven’s best gifts and 
richest blessings may be, and are daily abused and 
perverted by transgressors ? The laws of nature, 
which exist for our benefit and contribute to our hap- 


Danger in the Dark. 


104 

piness, men in their folly oft turn against themselves 
There is nothing placed within the reach of man, but 
what may be turned to a curse and rendered an instru- 
ment of evil.” 

Yet it seems to me, my venerable friend, that a 
religion claiming God for its Author, ought to shine 
with an undimmed effulgence, that, in spite of earth 
and hell, would at all times make its glory visible.” 

“ Clouds, you know, may vail the brightness of the 
sun ; yet how pure is the light of that glorious orb ! 
and how powerful his rays ! So may error, ignorance 
and superstition obscure, for a time, the great lumin- 
ary of Christianity, hung out in the moral heavens, 
to enlighten the benighted nations of the earth.” 

“ It is the avowed object of the Christian system, 
and the Gospel which is being proclaimed to the 
world, to lead men to God, enlighten and save them : 
still a large majority, after the long lapse of more than 
eighteen centuries, are found confessedly unsaved, 
unenlightened and far from God ; now, how are we to 
account for the failure ?” 

“ If you mean to take deistical ground, and main- 
tain that nature is a full and sufficient revelation, I 
would ask, how shall we account for the failure in that 
case ? The mass of men, as little understand and 
appreciate the great principles and sublime truths of 
nature, as they do those contained in revelation. 
Comparatively few are to any considerable extent 
enlightened in the book of creation. If you then 
argue that Christianity is a failure, and therefore not 


Danger in the Dark. 


165 


of God, because it has not enlightened all men, and 
made them virtuous and happy — upon a parity of 
reasoning, nature is a failure, and therefore not of 
God. Every philosopher knows, that the volume of 
nature is full of wisdom, and throughout its ample 
pages, replete with lessons of profitable instruction to 
reflecting minds ; yet undoubtedly, as few are charmed 
by the voice of nature, and attracted by the beauties 
of creation, as by the excellencies of Christianity and 
the inspired word of God. Many who profess a 
belief in divine revelation, entertain exceedingly nar- 
row and unworthy views of its heavenly principles, 
teachings and requirements, but the same class have 
equally narrow, limited and silly notions of the mate- 
rial Universe. What do they know about the extent 
of the empire of worlds ? All the astronomers that 
live, could never convince them, even by the clearest 
demonstrations, of the revolutions, velocity and mag- 
nitudes of the planets. The Catholic Bishop who 
pronounced sentence of death upon Galileo, for teach- 
ing that the earth revolved round the sun, evidently 
comprehended the system of nature as little as he 
did that. of revelation.” 

“My inclination to unbelief, I regret to say, Mr. 
Norwood, extends further than you seem to imagine ; 
could I stop after discarding the Bible, I would be com- 
paratively satisfied, but despite all I can do, I find 
within my mind a fearful proclivity toward universal 
skepticism — a disposition to doubt of the existence of 
God and the soul’s immortality ! I, however, try to 


166 


Danger in the Dark. 


persuade myself, that I am not an atheist ; yet am I 
inwardly conscious of bordering upon it.” 

“Alas 1 my son, that is a comfortless theory ; a chill- 
ing, dark, and dismal prospect for the mind’s eye to 
look upon 1 But I see not how, with such reasoning 
faculties, you can possibly resist the abundant evi- 
dence everywhere unfolded to us, that there is a God 
of infinite power, wisdom, and goodness, and that the 
human soul is of immortal destination. The Creator 
is seen in his works ; his glorious attributes and per- 
fections are impressed upon everything around us ; 
they are unfolded in the heavens above, and in the 
earth beneath ! ” 

“ I know ’tis common to extol the works of nature; 
we laud creation as complete and all-harmonious ; 
but can we find nothing defective ? Is there no 
clashing nor discord in the operations of nature? 
Have we not seen the vernal season gayly usher in, 
nature put on her beautiful garments of living green, 
and the blooming earth everywhere give promise of 
abundant fruits — then suddenly, and in a day, the 
warm, balmy, and life-giving breath of spring, is 
changed to a chilling blast; there comes a nipping 
frost, like a cold-blooded assassin with cruel intent, 
blasting the numerous tribes of flowers, tender plants, 
and budding fruits ! Yet see we no disharmony in 
nature’s vast empire ? Whence come pestilence, fam- 
ine, floods, droughts, desolating tempests, earth- 
quakes, and volcanoes ? Undeniably, there are disor- 
ders in nature ; beside, the world is full of moral evil 1 


Danger in the Dark. 167 

How can this be reconciled with the idea that there 
is a God of infinite power, wisdom, and goodness % ” 

“ I see no difficulty in it.” 

“ Then please remove the difficulty out of my way , 
for it is as a dark cloud before the eye of my mind.” 

“ I know there is seeming discord in the universe ; 
yet after all, ’tis but ‘harmony not understood.’ How 
consider this: how could man, constituted as he is, 
appreciate and enjoy good, without a knowledge of 
evil % What were harmony, without the idea of dis- 
cord ? Think of a picture without the shading ! nor 
could you relish life’s sunshine, without its shadows. 
Think you that tender emotions, kindly feelings, 
and warm affections, could spring up, and glow in 
the heart that never felt sorrow ? Again, what would 
health, wealth and prosperity be worth, if we could 
form no notion of their opposites ? ’Tis plain, without 
contrast, this world would be but dull monotony, and 
life a tasteless and insipid thing. And yet again, were 
there no imperfection, nothing defective in the uni- 
verse, there could be no progress. Much of our hap- 
piness lies in progress — in advancing from a less 
perfect, to a more perfect state. This law of progress 
gives us the advantage of continual contrast and com- 
parison — without which, as I have shown, it would 
be impossible to appreciate anything. Then it must 
appear, that even the sorrows and trials that betide 
us in our journey through life, will ultimately enhance 
our felicity. Is there no joy in a triumph over diffi- 
culties and dangers ? In ‘ overcoming evil with good V 


168 Danger in the Dark. 

In achieving victory in the face of opposition ? And 
do we not find that adversity and afflictions, when 
properly met, tend to develop energy of character, 
and give courage, strength and fortitude to the soul ?” 

“ Do not understand me to say that I am confirmed 
in atheistical views: I meant only to express the 
doubts I entertain, of the being of a God, and the 
doctrine of the soul’s immortality ; these doubts, and 
the dark, impervious clouds of unbelief that perpetu- 
ally flit across the sky of my mind, tend to paralyze 
my highest hopes, and sweep away almost every 
incentive to lofty resolves and noble action ! There 
are times, when I am unable to behold a single bright 
spot in all the wide, illimitable universe ! Then an 
insupportable gloom settles down like an incubus 
upon my spirit; life becomes a dreary wilderness, a 
barren desert without an oasis.” 

“ Oh ! ’tis a sad state of mind ! Thou hast suf- 
fered thy heart to wander from God, and art left in 
darkness. ’Tis written in the divine word : 4 Keep 
thy heart with all diligence.’ How necessary for all, 
but more especially for the young, to heed well this 
counsel ; for wayward is the heart of youth ; apt to 
forget God, and depart from righteousness and truth.” 

u Truly have I realized the verity of what you say; 
I have found my heart far more prolific of evil than 
of good, more fruitful of vice than of virtue ! ” 

“We should beware that the heart never be left 
unguarded, unfortified by truth, unsown with the 
seeds of virtue, uncultivated, nor un watered by the 


Danger in the Dark. 


169 


dews of heavenly grace. The human heart is capa- 
ble of imeasurable good or evil ; of sending forth 
mighty streams of life or death. Sometimes, like lava 
in Vesuvius, burn the fierce passions within its 
glowing caverns. ; and then is oft poured forth a lava- 
tide of desolating wrath, consuming in its course what- 
e’er is beautiful and lovely. The heart, left to itself, 
or abandoned to the direction and guidance of chance, 
is weak and erring ; like an un weeded garden that 
grows to seed, produces only that which is gross and 
unbeautiful. But with the invigorating and whole- 
some influences of proper education, correct discipline, 
and true religion, it may be rendered a garden of 
sweet flowers, where not an unseemly weed, noxious 
plant, nor poisonous herb, e’er spring up to mar its 
beauty.” 

“I feel the truth of your observations; but how 
few among mortals attain to such moral purity and 
excellence as you have pictured ! My own experience 
teaches me that there are pernicious influences in a 
thousand different forms, w T hich seek to corrupt, 
darken, and desolate the heart, and turn it to a fright- 
ful wilderness — whfre the hissing serpents of malice 
coil, and devouring passions rage ! Who can effectu- 
ally guard against falsehood, deceit, envy, pride, am- 
bition, selfishness ? ” 

“ Constant watchfulness is requisite ; every door, 
gateway, and avenue to the heart, needs to be guarded 
with the utmost vigilance*.” 


170 


Danger in the Dark. 


Day after day was passed in similar conversations, 
greatly to the edification and agreeable entertainment 
of Alonzo, and ere he took his departure from Wild- 
wood-vale, such indelible impressions were made 
upon his mind by the sage counsel of the hermit, as 
eventually led him to the light of truth, and into the 
path of virtue and religion. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A Jesuit outwitted — The disguise — Escape from the convent — A 

priest in dishabille — Tragi-comedy. 

I here beg leave to introduce to the reader, Mary 
Glidewell — a rosy, merry, romping girl of eighteen ; 
possessing a don’t-care-ative sort of disposition, never 
afraid to speak her mind, nor to attempt what she 
had a mind to do ; and what was more, she seldom 
failed in that she undertook. 

From childhood Mary had manifested a fondness 
for romantic, hazardous, and daring projects, that 
bordered on recklessness. Dauntless, and prankish, 
she was forever seeking opportunities to gratify her 
love of adventure, or to perform some startling feat. 
Withal, she possessed excellent sense, sparkling wit, 
tender sympathies, a feeling, warm, and generous 
heart. 

Being intimately acquainted with Enola Glenn, and 
associating much with her, Miss Glidewell had become 
deeply interested in the affairs of the convent, a par- 
ticular account of which Enola had given her ; and 
although never having seen either Anna Maria or 
Arabella, she felt particularly interested in their fate, 

and anxious for the success of the scheme that had 

( 171 ) ' 


172 Danger in the Dark. 

been conceived by Isadora, to entice them away from 
their prison. 

One day in conversation upon the subject with 
Enola and Isadora, a romantic thought all at once 
bolted into Mary’s mind ; clapping her hands together 
and springing to her feet, she exclaimed : “ I ’ll 
try it ! ” 

“ What now, Mary ? try what ?” said Enola, not a 
little surprised at the sudden start and triumphant air 
of the eccentric Miss Glidewell. 

“ To fool Dupin, and think it no sin !” she replied. 

u It ’ll require all your wits.” 

“ Never mind — I ’ll come up on his blind side.” 

u Sure enough, he has but one eye.” 

“And but little use for that,” remarked Isadora, 
“if he ’s still where I last saw him ; for not a ray of 
light nor breath of air could enter the horrid dungeon 
where I shut him in. How I ’d like to see him take 
another Sam Patch of a Jeap from the upper window 
of the convent.” 

“You lent him some assistance in that exploit, I ’ve 
been informed,” remarked Miss Glidewell. 

“Yes, I had the honor of giving his holiness a 
hoist.” 

“ Then it was he lost an eye 

“ That was not caused by the beautiful leap he took, 
but rather by his awkward lighting.” 

“ But tell us, Mary,” said Enola, “ how is it you 
think of fooling Dupin ?” 

“I’ma stranger to him, you know.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


173 


“Yes.” 

“ He ’ll not know who I am, nor where I ’m from.” 

“ True.” 

“ Nor whether I ’m a de’il or a saint.” 

“ Yery well ! what then 1” 

“ I ’ll dress myself in mourning ; put on a face like 
a gravestone, and go to him with a doleful story — 
saying, ‘ My friends are dead, and the world has 
become a howling wilderness ; and I ’ve thoughts of 
seeking repose in the cloister.’ Beside, I ’ll intimate 
that I have on hand a few thousand dollars, which, 
perhaps, I may one day see it my religious duty to 
appropriate to the church.” 

“ And what will you accomplish by all that ?” 

“Why, I may gain an opportunity of seeing Maria 
Gerard and Arabella May ; and who knows but that 
I might prevail upon them to leave the convent ?” 

“But you can’t have access to them without taking 
the vows ; and you must be a novice two years before 
you ’re allowed to take the vows.” 

“ I ’m aware that ’s the rule ; but nevertheless, 
mark it, I ’ll gain admission to the black-vail depart- 
ment, and have an interview with Anna and Arabella 
without taking the vows, and even without becoming 
first a novitiate.” 

“ I see not how you can hope to succeed in that-” 

“ Thus : Dupin has a pliant conscience— or rather, 
perhaps, no conscience at all — and he ’s avaricious ; 
he ’ll believe that I have money, and will be ready to 
humor my fancies and yield to my capriciousness — an 


174 Danger in the Dark. 

abundance of which I shall not fail to put on. I will 
tell him that before taking any other step, I want to 
make a trial of my faith, and of my capacity to 
endure the cloistered life, by passing a few days in 
the convent ; and that during that time I must be 
permitted to wear the black vail, and have access to 
the nuns who have taken the monastic vows. He 
may hesitate ; but when he sees that to humor me is 
the only chance of getting at the money, which I ’ll 
remember to hint on, depend upon it he ’ll quickly 
bite at the baited hook.” 

“Would you play such a game of deception as 
that ?” 

“It ’s the only way of getting ahead of these Jes- 
uits ; we must beat them at their own game. I can 
think of no other plan that would likely work at all ; 
for Isadora dare not again venture about the convent ; 
they would most certainly take her life.” 

“Yes — no question of that; but you they will 
hardly suspect.” 

Enola had but little thought, however, that when 
it should come to the test, Mary Glide well would 
really attempt to carry out the project. Feeling that 
it could hardly be right under any circumstances to 
use deception, Miss Glenn made no effort to encour- 
age the undertaking. 

Mary’s intrepidity was equal to her ambition ; in 
die course of a few days she made the necessary 
preparation. Clad in weeds of mourning, she w T ent 
to Dupin, and proceeded in all respects as she had 


Danger in the Dark. 


175 


previously determined ; so perfectly did she play her 
part, that the slightest suspicion never once entered 
the mind of the priest, hypocrite as he was, that the 
young lady was insincere. At first he objected to 
granting her the privileges she asked ; but when he 
saw nothing else would do, and got the hint that she 
had a considerable estate, he directly became intent 
on humoring her fancies, and appointed an hour on 
the following day for her to call again ; at which time 
he agreed to accompany her to the convent. 

After the departure of his fair visitor, Dupin went 
and informed the Abbess of the arrangement, and 
charged her to treat the young lady kindly, and allow 
her the privilege to come and go as she might choose, 
and visit at pleasure any of the inmates of the insti- 
tution. He instructed her, further, to enjoin upon 
the nuns that they appear cheerful in the presence of 
the stranger, and to beware of expressing in her hear- 
ing any feeling of discontent. 

Punctual to the time, Miss Glidewell, at the ap- 
pointed hour, called upon the priest and was accom- 
panied by him to the convent, and introduced to the 
Abbess, who expressed a’ willingness to gratify her 
wishes, and to serve her in any way she might desire. 

Mary was not long in finding a chance to converse 
privately with Anna Maria and Arabella. Perceiv- 
ing directly that she could express herself with free- 
dom to them, she frankly made known the object of 
her visit, and told them of the great anxiety felt by 


176 Danger in the Dark. 

their friends that they should quit the convent for a 
wider and happier sphere of existence. 

In reply, Maria assigned two reasons why they 
could not yield to the wishes of their friends in that 
respect. The first was, the - sacredness of the vows 
they had taken ; the second, the disgrace that would 
forever attach to their characters by so doing, and the 
odium which Catholics would perpetually and every- 
where heap upon their names. 

Too deeply had the dreadful superstition taken hold 
upon them; their infatuated minds could not be so 
easily unchained ; fixed and indelibly stamped upon 
their hearts was the belief that a violation of their 
monastic vows would sink their souls to hopeless, 
helpless misery, fire and pain. 

Finding them immovable, and convinced that she 
could not prevail by persuasion nor argument, Miss 
Glidewell proposed that they should consent to an 
interview with Enola Glenn — which she thought 
could be brought about by Enola putting on her 
apparel, covering her fac6 with the black vail she 
had on, and visiting the convent in her stead. 

To this proposition they readily consented, and 
fixed upon an hour in the afternoon of the next day 
for the interview. With this understanding, Miss 
Glidewell took leave of the nuns. Passing out, she 
said to the Abbess : “ Expect me to return to-morrow 
afternoon.” The Abbess bowed, saying, “We shall 
be happy to see you.” 

Hastening to Mr, Glenn’s, the adventurous girl 


Danger in the Dare. 


177 


told the result of her visit, and informed Enola of the 
part which she was then required to act. “ Your 
long and intimate acquaintance with them, Enola,” 
said Miss Glidewell, “ will give you an influence over 
their minds and feelings which I cannot exert. It is 
at least possible for you to succeed.” 

u Bnt how do you expect me to gain admittance,” 
asked Enola. 

“ Our figure and stature but slightly differ ; wear 
my apparel, and under this thick vail conceal your 
face; a casual glance will not distinguish or mark 
the difference between us. And I can give you such 
directions as will enable you to enter the building 
and find your way to the right room without the 
least difficulty ; and as I shall be expected by the Su- 
perior at the very hour in which you will make your 
appearance, the slightest suspicion cannot possibly 
arise.” 

Enola was by no means lacking in moral courage ; 
yet she was reluctant to play a deceitful part in any- 
thing ; but so much had she become interested in the 
project now on foot, and so very solicitious was she 
to succeed in redeeming Maria and Arabella from a 
dark and soul-destroying superstition, that she scarcely 
hesitated in making up her mind. 

“ At all events, Mary, I ’ll try,” said she. 

“ I predict you’ll succeed.” 

u ’T is uncertain.” 

“ Only convince them these unlawful vows are not 

binding, and you have gained the victory.” 

14 


178 


Danger in the Dark. 


“ I would rejoice in the triumph, but am not san- 
guine.” 

****** 

So unaccustomed was Enola to dissimulation, that 
upon drawdng near the convent, her heart began 
violently to palpitate, and almost failed her; but hav- 
ing undertaken the daring enterprise she resolved at 
all hazards to carry it through as best she could. 

Entering the building agreeably to Mary’s direc- 
tions, and trying to assume an air of familiarity with 
the place, she w r as proceeding with unsteady steps 
toward the apartment occupied by Maria and Ara- 
bella. Unfortunately she was met midway by the 
Abbess, who took her by the hand with kindly greet- 
ings. Fearing her voice might betray her, Enola 
refrained from speaking ; merely bowing with cold 
civility, she passed on. 

Looking after her w T ith a suspicious glance, the 
Superior said to herself, u She shows too much haste, 
and her manner is uneasy — her air agitated ! I’m 
not so sure that all is right.” 

Without farther difficulty, Enola reached the apart- 
ment occupied by Maria and Arabella — was joyfully 
received and affectionately embraced by them. When 
she had become sufficiently composed to speak, she 
said feelingly : 

u Think not strange, my loves, that I am here in 
disguise, and have come unbidden ; you know full 
well I have ever loved you — loved you dearly! 
’Tis this hath brought me to your secluded abode. 


Danger in the Dark. 


179 


Oft I’ve grieved t<5 think you unhappy. Shut up in 
this cheerless prison, I know you are miserable, rest- 
less and discontented ! Deny it not, Maria; seek not 
to disguise it, Arabella ; I read it in your looks ; ’t is 
written on those faces once lighted by smiles, and 
radiant with hope and joy — but now, alas, o’ercast 
with sadness and gloom. Oh, how can you believe 
the adorable Creator brought you into being for no 
higher object or nobler purpose than that of filling a 
living grave ? A thousand opportunities of doing 
good and benefiting humanity are ever open to those 
whose hearts incline them to a life of piety, and to 
deeds of charity and well-doing. But how is it pos- 
sible, incarcerated as you are within these narrow 
walls, to render yourselves a blessing to society, a 
comfort to your friends, or in anywise make your lives 
useful ? Here, you are cut off from the sympathies 
of life ; and I may say from the stage of action, and 
the great drama in which it is the duty of all to take 
a part. Everything in creation condemns the mon- 
astic life, and points aloft to nobler things, higher 
aims, and more rational duties. If piety can better be 
promoted within the somber walls of a convent, why 
is the world without made so beautifully fair — so at- 
tractive and enticing ? If heaven intended we should 
be otherwise than cheerful and happy, why is not 
every flower a thorn, every sweet a bitter, every breath 
a draught of pestilence, every sound a discord?” 

These remarks, accompanied as they were with 
tears of sympathy, and uttered in touching tones of 


180 


Danger in the Dark. 


tenderness, took deep hold upon the feelings of Maria 
and Arabella ; discovering which, Enola for a time 
was filled with hope of success ; but after all, she 
found argument and reason utterly impotent, so 
strongly binding and inviolable did the nuns esteem 
their vows. Finally, another thought presented itself 
to Enola’s mind, and she said : 

u I will no longer persuade you to cast off your 
vows and abandon the cloister ; but this will I say, 
there could be no harm in making a secret visit to 
our house — which, may be done in the nighf-time, 
when the Abbess ftnd all the inmates are asleep. I 
can have our carriage brought to the convent gate at 
a late hour ; by passing out softly there will be no 
danger of giving alarm; you can then go with me, 
and spend an hour or two and return in perfect ty. 
Nor need it ever be known to any but ourselves and 
the circle of friends that you may choose to have 
invited to meet you at our residence.” 

To this proposition' &fter much persuasion, Anna 
Maria and Arabella agreed. It was determined the 
visit should be made that night ; and after Maria and 
Arabella had concluded upon who of their friends 
and acquaintances should be invited to meet them, 
Enola said, “Now I’ll return home and make all 
necessary arrangements. Mary Glidewell will put 
on the apparel in which I am disguised, and come 
immediately here under cover of spending the night 
with you. When you are confident all are asleep, let 
her proceed to the outer door to await the signal that 


Danger in the Dark. 


181 


shall be agreed upon between us; she will then notify 
you that we are in waiting ; whereupon, you will cau- 
tiously and softly make your way out. It would per- 
haps be running too much risk for all three of you to 
be together at the outer door awaiting our coming ; 
for in case any one should pass out or in, a group 
would stand less chance to escape observation than a 
single individual.” 

Taking her departure, Enola hastened home, elated 
with the hope that if they once succeeded in getting 
the young ladies away from the convent, and among 
their friends, they perchance might then be dissuaded 
from returning. 

The tidings Enola carried home with regard to the 
success of her effort, created quite a sensation. 

“How glad I’ll be,” said Isadora, “to see Maria 
and Arabella out of that loathsome prison ! I ’m sure 
we can persuade them never to go back again.” 

“ I wish Alonzo Carleton were here to go with us 
to-night,” said Mary Glidewell ; “ such an exploit 
would delight him ! ” 

“Who knows,” observed Isadora, “but providence 
may send him in good time ? He might happen 
along this evening, late as it is ; some how or other I 
feel as if it were to be so.” 

“Poor Alonzo !” sighed Enola, “no one knows 
what has become of him.” 

The words had scarcely passed her lips, when to 
the astonishment and rejoicing of all, Alonzo Carle- 
ton made his appearance. The scene which followed 


182 Danger in the Dark. 

that most opportune event can better be imagined 
than described. 

Doning her suit of woe, Mary Glidewell, in high 
spirits set out again for the convent, which she reached 
in the twilight of the evening. For fear of changing 
the mind of Anna Maria, and causing her to distrust 
herself, Mary thought it better not to apprise her of 
Alonzo’s arrival. She found the unhappy girls in 
better spirits than usual, and contemplating, with a 
degree of enthusiasm, the anticipated visit. 

The hour for retiring came ; and very soon pro- 
found silence reigned throughout the convent. After 
a sufficient length of time had elapsed for all to be 
composed to sleep, Miss Glidewell observed, in a 
whisper : 

“ I will now go down and take my station by the 
fypnt door, and listen for the signal, which is to be 
three light raps ; I will then unbolt the door, and 
learn whether the carriage is in readiness ; all being 
right, I shall immediately come and notify you.” 

“ Walk lightly,” remarked Maria ; “ the Superior 
lodges in a small room not far from the outer door ; 
be sure that you make no noise to awaken her.” 

“ ’Tis well you admonished me of that — I ’ll tread 
very lightly.” 

With noiseless footfall — light as the stealthy step- 
ping of a cat — she proceeded to take her position as 
had been agreed upon. 

Scarcely had she reached the door, when a heavy 
rap resounded upon it from without; this at first 


Danger in the Dark. 


183 


startled her, and she began to retreat ; bnt after a 
moment’s reflection, concluded it might be Alonzo, 
and that he had not rightly understood the signal 
agreed upon between Enola and herself. With this 
impression, she retraced her steps, and was about to 
open the door, when she was again startled by the 
sound of footsteps behind her. Looking quickly 
round, she perceived in the darkness a female figure 
gliding toward her ; receding suddenly into a corner 
near-by, she managed to escape observation. There, 
breathless and motionless, Mary awaited the result. 

The gliding figure moved to the door, which directly 
opened, and some one entered. The dim star-light 
which for an instant relieved the darkness of the hall, 
as the door swung open, enabled Miss Glidewell to 
discover that the visitor wore a priestly coat. After 
some whispering, the two individuals entered together 
the room described to Miss Glidewell as the sleeping 
apartment of the Abbess, and whence had issued the 
female figure. 

“ The circumstances look a little suspicious,” said 
Mary to herself ; “but since the priestly garb precludes 
the idea of any earthly temptation, it must be all 
right. A spiritual affair no doubt.” 

It was but a few minutes after the occurrence just 
mentioned, when three light raps upon the door signi- 
fied to Mary that her friends had arrived. Leaving 
her hiding-place, she moved softly to the door, and 
drew the bolt, which in spite of her made a slight 


184 


Danger in the Dark. 


creaking noise; on opening, she found Alonzo at 
the door, carriage-whip in hand, who informed her 
he was accompanied by Enola and Isadora, whom 
he had left with the vehicle but a few rods off, con- 
cealed under the shadow of a locust-tree — thinking 
it better to use caution in their proceedings. 

Fearing Carleton might be taken on surprise, Mary 
informed him that some man in clerical garments had 
come in a few minutes previous, and was in a room 
near-by. 

The better to shield himself from observation, in 
case this nocturnal visitor should chance to pass out, 
Alonzo^concluded to stand within, while Miss Glide- 
well went to let Maria and Arabella know their read- 
iness to depart. As he closed the door, he heard a 
female voice, in a shrill whisper, say : 

“That must have been the door-bolt — I heard it 
creak. Indeed, Mr. Dupin, I ’m very suspicious of 
that singular girl, to whom you ’ve granted such 
extraordinary privileges here.” 

- “ Ah ! Eev. Dupin is on hand, it seems,” said 
Alonzo to himself; “it’s lucky that I happened to 
bring this carriage- whip along ; I possibly may have 
occasion to use it in a way I had not thought of.” 

“ I wouldn’t at all be surprised,” said the female 
voice again, “ if that girl were coaxing Maria and 
Arabella to leave the convent.” 

“ I must look out for that,” answered a male voice, 
followed by a sound as of one leaping out of. bed ; 


Danger in the Dark. 


185 


4 should Anna Maria apostatize, it would knock us 
out of a large amount. Her estate is not yet made 
secure to the church.” 

• 44 Hark ! I hear light footsteps in the* hall; some- 
thing ’s in the wind! What’s to be done? it won’t 
do for it to be known that you ’re here at this hour 
of the night.” 

44 It ’ll not do to let Maria escape, consequences be 
what they may.” 

“But stop ; yon ’re in dishabille.” 

44 No time for dressing. There, I see them going 
out ; I must overtake them.” 

• 4 Wait a moment ; put something on for decency’s 
sake — you look like a fright! Here, take this; I 
believe it ’s only my short-gown at last.” 

44 Hurry, let me go !” 

< 4 Why, great mercy! it’s too short for you by 
half!” 

But off he went, in hot haste, determined to over- 
take the fugitives, let his plight be what it might. 
It ’s quite impossible to conceive anything more ludi- 
crous than was the appearance of the priest without 
his unmentionables, and wearing upon his shoulders 
the Superior’s short-gown. 

Alonzo, hearing what passed between Dupin and 
his paramour, concluded to remain concealed until 
the priest should pass out, then follow close at his 
heels. 

When the young ladies had approached within a 

short distance of the carriage, they halted, and Mary 
15 


186 


Danger in the Dark. 


turned round to look for Alonzo, wondering in her 
mind what had become of him. The first thing that 
met her gaze, was the ungainly-looking figure of 
Dupin coming toward them. She involuntarily ex* 
claimed : 

“In the name of wonder! what hobgoblin is that?” 
Whereupon, Dupin stopped ; quite unconscious that 
Carleton was but a few paces behind, ready to pepper 
him. 

It suddenly occurred to the priest that he could 
make it seem a miraculous and providential thing that 
he was there, so unlooked for, to prevent the escape 
of the nuns. To try the expedient, he lifted both 
hands toward heaven, and said : 

“ Great God, I thank thee for this miracle, whereby 
thou hast brought me so timely here to save these 
precious souls from the unpardonable sin of violating 
their most holy vows. Spare the rebels this once ; 
let not thy wrath be kindled against them ; withhold 
thy dread thunderbolts ” 

Whack ! went Alonzo’s whip, taking effect upon 
the denuded legs of the priest, giving his reverence a 
very unexpected hoist in the world, and bringing his 
prayer to an unceremonious close. There followed 
such a transition from the lofty attitude and eloquent 
gesture to that of making straight skirts for a place 
of safety, as fully to verify the truth of the remark : 
u Between the sublime and the ridiculous there lies 
but a single step.” 

Not knowing whence came the blow, confused and 


Danger in the Dark. 187 

frightened, and wheeling about to take flight, he quite 
forgot to hold on to his loose wrapper, but bounding 
away' like a wild antelope, left his borrowed gown 
upon the wind ! The light skirt of his nether gar- 
ment swinging off to a horizontal position, like the 
flag of a fast sailing vessel, it offered a tempting 
mark, under its fluttering folds, to the keen lash of 
Alonzo’s whip, which adroitly handled, and vigor- 
ously applied, kissed him sweetly every jump, till he 
reached the threshold of the convent, which he en- 
tered with a yelp and a howl that induced all within 
to think surely the devil was let loose again. 

The setting in of this tragi-comedy quickly dissi- 
pated the fears of Mary Glidewell, who fell to laugh- 
ing quite immoderately ; the rest of the females, all 
of whom witnessed the ludicrous scene, were in great 
amazement till the whole matter was explained. So 
palpable was the guilt and baseness of Dupin, that 
Anna Maria and Arabella, were not long making up 
their minds to return no more to the convent. 

It was not until they had arrived at Mr. Glenn’s, 
and entered the drawing-room, that Anna Maria 
Gerard recognized Alonzo. Language is inadequate 
to depict the sensations she experienced at the moment 
of the recognition, and the thrilling emotions that ran 
through every nerve ! A gush of feeling filled the 
bosom of each, stirring the heart to its greatest depths. 
After the salutations were over, a profound and solemn 
silence prevailed for some minutes; every eye was 


188 Danger in the Dark. 

suffused with tears, and feelings were too deep for 
utterance. 

Mary Glideweil, though by nature unserious and 
volatile, wept no less freely than the rest, but her 
solemnity was of short duration; her mind soon re- 
verted to the amusing scene she had so lately witnessed 
at the convent; and suddenly seized with a lit of 
laughter, she broke in upon the solemnity and still- 
ness of the circle, by giving vent to her merriment in 
ringing tones of mirth. 

“ What now, Mary ?” said Enola, looking up quite 
surprised. 

“Pardon me;” replied Miss Glideweil, “in my 
wayward imagination, I yet see priest Dupin splitting 
the wind !” 

This allusion brought an involuntary smile to the 
lip of every one present, who had witnessed the flight, 
and most unseemly plight of the terrified priest. 

“ He will hardly need to do penance very soon, I ’m 
disposed to conjecture ;” remarked Alonzo. 

“ ’T is his habit to leave that for others to do ;” ob- 
served Isadora Norwood. 

“If I mistake not,” returned Carleton, “ he took a 
small share of it to-night, after the fashion of flagella- 
tion ; at anyrate my well platted whip-lash, has con- 
siderably changed its color since the tune it played to 
his forced march. He took an air-line — but as good 
fortune would have it, he didn’t outsail me.” 

“I discovered you followed close in his wake.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


189 


“ Yes, I was practicing the waking-up system.” 

It now became necessary for Carleton to relate the 
particulars of the whole circumstance, and to give a 
general account of the night’s adventure, for the bene- 
fit of those who w r ere not with them to witness the 
affair ; he accordingly gave a highly graphic descrip- 
tion of what had transpired, to the infinite amuse- 
ment of the company. With Maria and Arabella, 
however, feelings of sadness, produced by thoughts 
of the past, too much preponderated to allow them to- 
be mirthful, yet they expressed great gratitude for the 
interest their friends had manifested in their behalf, 
and that the strange spell that had bound them, was 
at last broken. 


CHAPTER XV. 


The discomfited priest in a fume Secret session of an ecclesiasti- 
cal council in the city of New York. 

When Dupin had a little recovered from his panic, 
and began to reflect upon what had taken place, he 
became desperately exasperated, and kindled to such 
a diabolical rage that he almost exploded. Like a 
furious serpent, blind with excessive venom, he seemed 
ready to bite himself ; raved and frothed, pronounced 
the most terrible curses on the heads of all engaged in 
the transaction, by which he had been so defeated and 
outraged ! 

“ Be calm, Mr. Dupin, be calm,” said the Abbess, 
“ and let me dress your wounds ; there’s no use now 
in belching out so many words about it — they are all 
out of hearing.” 

“I’ll pursue the reprobates — hell’s impatient for 
them, and cannot wait ; to the very ends of the earth 
I ’ll follow them, to glut my vengeance !” 

“ I incline to think you did follow them once, and 
came off bravely ! Rather than run as you did, I 
would have fought till doomsday.” 

u But I was surprised, and hadn’t time to pluck up 

my courage — and the wretch pitched into me with 
( 190 ) 


Danger in the Dark. 


191 


such fury ; the cruel lash of his whip cracked like 
pistols, and he popped it to me so thick and fast, I had 
no time for reflection ; the very first lick, I thought 
both my legs were cut off, and the rest of me blowed 
up into the air ; I ’m confident he raised me six or 
seven feet from the ground.” 

u Nonsense — you only imagine it.” 

“ No imagination about it, for he cracked it to me 
three or four times, before I came down again.” 

“ Pooh ! you were excited ; why man, you could 
have fallen fifty feet, before the fellow could have 
made three or four passes at you.” 

- u He was quick as lightning.” 

“ Still you intend to pursue him ? You ’re anxious 
for another licking I suppose ?” 

“It’s not the injury sustained by the lashing the 
villain gave me, that I ’m fretting about ; ’tis the loss 
of Anna Maria’s estate — not a cent of which can we 
now ever reach.” 

“ I can’t imagine why you trusted that Mary Glide- 
well so far; ’twas she did all the mischief.” 

“ The abominable hypocrite ! why she made me 
believe that in a short time, she expected to hand over 
several thousand dollars for the benefit of the church.” 

“And instead of that, has caused the loss of a 
hundred thousand !” 

u ’Tis too much to bear !” 

To such an extent did this corrupt-hearted man give 
way to malicious feelings, that for months he was 


192 Danger in the Dark. 

bordering on absolute madness. By the advice of 
Bishop Constantius, he finally left the Queen City and 
went to New York, where he took charge of a con- 
gregation. 

The next account we had of Dupin, which was 
several years after, he was figuring in a priestly con- 
clave, which met in New York city, and sat several 
days in secret session. I will here give a few brief 
sketches of speeches made near the close of the ses- 
sion, by certain leading men in the council. 

Dupin rose to reply to a member of the council, 
who had just taken his seat after a lengthy speech in 
favor of expediency, and said : 

“ Why not throw off the mask ? ’tis useless longer 
to disguise our aims ; nothing more is to be gained by 
our protestations of devotion to civil and religious 
liberty. These, at first, were necessary as things of 
policy — mere expedients to gain time, and meant for 
nothing more. Home has now gathered strength, 
and the lion may cease to speak like the lamb. The 
power which sits enthroned at Rome, rightfully claims 
the allegiance of the entire world. Catholicity aspires 
to, and demands, the dominion of the whole earth. 
Why shall this, the most formidable power on the face 
of the globe, be deterred by any combinations that 
may be formed against it ? The time has come for us 
boldly to assert the claims of the sovereign Pontiff’, 
to overrule all forms of government, and to suppress 
by military force, whenever tha f force can be obtained, 


Danger in the Dark. 193 

all other forms of religion but the Catholic. Protest- 
ants have yet to learn, that religions toleration is in- 
compatible with Catholicism ; their knowledge of this 
fact, though it may increase their opposition to us, 
can give them no advantage over us; beside, we 
cannot appear consistent while we conceal our senti- 
ments upon that subject. 

“But first and most of all, is it needful that we 
bring our heaviest artillery to bear upon the State 
Schools. If we fail to break down, and utterly defeat 
this American Common School system, ’tis destined to 
operate greatly to our disadvantage by enlightening 
the masses. But it will behoove us to be exceedingly 
careful as to our mode and manner of attack. By an 
injudicious attempt to prostrate the Common Schools, 
we should not only miss our aim, but weaken our in-, 
fluence. ‘The attempt, without the deed, confounds 
us.’ It might be wisdom, at first, to demand only a 
pro rata division of the public school fund ; if that be 
granted, our success is sure — the whole superstructure 
will then soon topple down, and there will be a uni- 
versal squabble among Protestant sects, to see who 
can get the largest grab at the public funds. Such a 
contention, you see, would unquestionably result in 
the destruction of the system — and that is what we 
want.” 

Bishop Lateran, then took the floor and spoke as 
follows : 

“Heartily do I concur in the sentiments just ex- 


194 


Danger in the Dark. 


pressed by Dr. Dupin. Heretofore, as he has intim- 
ated, it was found necessary to use forbearance, and 
pursue a conciliatory course toward the enemies of our 
faith ; but such a compromising policy is now no 
longer called for, nor is it expedient. At the present 
crisis, a manifestation of timidity on our part, would 
embolden Protestants, and strengthen their hands; 
much may be gained by a display of undaunted cour- 
age ; making a flourish of trumpets, and boldly throw- 
ing the gauntlet, we shall strike terror to the hearts 
of our adversaries ! Rest assured, there are thousands 
of indifferentists, who are only solicitious of being on 
the strong side in the contest ; these thousands may be 
gained over to our assistance, by showing ourselves 
sanguine, and fearlessly entering the arena — daring 
Protestants to the combat. Those whom we cannot 
induce to love, we must compel to fear us. 

“ As has been already argued, it is important to our 
success in this country, that we either demolish, or 
else get control of the State Schools ; if they cannot 
be made subservient to the interests of the mother 
Church, they must be put down. Should we succeed 
in the scheme which has been suggested, of bringing 
about a division of the Public School Fund, it will have 
the effect to introduce into the schools, sectarianism, 
which has been so sedulously guarded against by their 
founders; and when once that creeps in, the whole 
affair is destined to explode ! Beside, a grant for 
such a division will give us a chance to put our hands 


Danger in the Dark. 


195 


into the public coffers. As to the use we may choose 
to make of such funds, that will be our own business. 

. “I find there are not a few Catholics even, who 
incline to patronize the Common Schools ; this we 
must at once put a stop to. Everywhere, priests and 
Catholic editors, should denounce the State schools as 
godless and immoral; corrupting to youth — dens of 
iniquity and pollution, fostering all manner of crime 
and infidelity. When we once fairly open our bat- 
teries upon the free-schools, then let our hostility be 
uncompromising — give them war to the hilt! At 
least that is my judgment.” 

Next came forward Bishop Constantius — and re- 
marked substantially as follows : 

u I am an old man — have long been in the field of 
battle ; there ’s no plan of attack nor of defense, that 
I have not tried in warring against Protestantism. I 
want not to discourage you ; by no means would I 
abate your ardor, yet allow me to say, ’tis my cool and 
deliberate judgment, that the time has not yet come 
for unmasking our designs. I ’m seriously apprehen- 
sive, you under-estimate the strength of Protestant- 
ism — be not deceived, we shall encounter a formidable 
antagonist. But while I regard the measures you pro- 
pose as premature, yet if you are unchangeably re- 
solved upon them — I am with you.” 

Scarcely a fortnight had elapsed, after this ecclesias- 
tical body had closed its session, when an assault was 
made by the Romish clergy upon the Public Schools, 


196 


Danger in the Dark. 


in the city of New York ; and then, directly a simul- 
taneous war was waged against Common Schools, 
throughout the length and breadth of the land by 
priests, editors and bishops of the Catholic church : 
many of whom, laying aside all dignity and decency 
of language in their denunciations, indulged in raillery, 
billingsgate, vulgar epithets, and the vilest abuse ! 


CHAPTER XYI. 


Early life of Dupin — His relationship to Bedini — Their boyhood 
associations in Italy — Immoral habits — Colloquy between Mr. 
and Mrs. Foresti. 

If the courteous reader will indulge me in an epi- 
sode, (such perhaps it may be considered,) I will here 
introduce a brief account of the early life of Dupin. 
To the critic, this may seem to break the proper con- 
nection, and mar the harmony of the narrative ; and 
perhaps he may regard it as not very legitimately 
belonging to the main story which the author set out 
to tell ; yet I am persuaded it will not be considered 
altogether foreign and out of place. Since this accom- 
plished Jesuit has figured so conspicuously in the 
preceding pages, it is but natural that the reader 
should have some curiosity, and feel a desire to know 
more about him and learn something of his origin. 

Dupin was a native of Italy ; born in a suburb of 
the city of Rome. His father was an ignorant papist, 
who became a monk and forsook his family to lead a 
lewd and idle life, under pretense of seeking eminent 
piety, and being entirely devoted to religion. Of the 
manner in which the forsaken w T ife and mother ame- 
liorated her condition, it is best not to 6peak. The 

a97) 


198 


Danger in the Dark. 


consequence was, this son at an early age was thrown 
among the baser sort, and learned to indulge in all 
manner of vice, debauchery and dissipation. Sur- 
rounded by such influences, and having constantly 
before him the very worst examples, we can scarcely 
think it strange that he grew up to be the artful and 
treacherous Jesuit we have described. An education 
like that would rarely produce a better man than has 
been portrayed in the character of Dupin. A mind 
and heart by nature noble and exalted, may awhile 
resist the influence of evil communications and vicious 
society, but not always. Forever in contact with 
that which tends to pollute the mind and lead the 
heart astray, an angel would hardly be secure. 

I have heretofore neglected to mention that Dupin 
was cousin to Bedini, the bloody butcher of Bologna. 
The history of the former is so interwoven with the 
life and conduct of the latter, that it will become 
necessary to say something also of this inhuman 
monster. 

Though it be no pleasing task to speak of so vile a 
wretch as Bedini, yet it is one I have no disposition 
to shun, since he has, by the most perfidious acts, 
rendered himself so deserving universal execration 
and the world’s scorn. It is but proper, at least so 
to my mind, that the American people know more 
than they have yet learned of the private life and 
public conduct of one who has so recently been in 
our midst, producing civil discord wherever he went, 
and yet demanding of this government, with unheard- 


Danger in the Dark. 


199 


of and impudent effrontery, an honorable reception — 
a tribute of national respect, and the meed of hom- 
age, because of his exalted rank in the Theocratic 
Hierarchy. 

Dupin and Bedini being associated together, as 
they were, from boyhood, it is by no means strange 
that there should appear, in the complexion of their 
moral characters, a striking similarity. If any dif- 
ference existed between them in this respect, Dupin 
was perhaps less base, brutal and unfeeling than the 
other. As to intellect, shrewdness and cunning, Du- 
pin was decidedly superior to his cousin. The latter 
as well as the former was sadly neglected in childhood 
and youth, and placed in a condition well calculated 
to mold a character utterly destitute of every amiable 
quality, and work the deepest depravity of heart. 
Being of poor, obscure, and I might add of doubtful 
parentage, he was cast upon the world a ragged, filthy 
urchin, and went uncared for, leading an indolent, 
vicious, and miserable life ; and by consequence grew 
up to manhood, worthless, ignorant and dissipated, 
as did Dupin, his boon companion in vice and crime. 

One day, while they were yet lads, being goaded 
by hunger, having been unable for some days to pro- 
cure, either by begging or stealing, a sufficient amount 
to satisfy the cravings of appetite, they together en- 
tered the house of a gentleman whose name was 
Foresti, a Catholic, but whose wife had no faith in the 
Bomish religion. Dupin, leading the way, addressed 
the lady thus*’ 


200 


Danger in the Dare. 


“Good woman, for the sake of the Holy Virgin 
Mary, mother of Jesus, give us food ! We can obtain 
no employment, nor have we been able, for nearly 
three days, to find any one kind enough to afford us a 
morsel to eat.” 

Mrs. Foresti was a woman of tender sympathies 
and unbounded benevolence. She hastened to set 
before the miserable-looking mendicants the best pro- 
visions in her house. Like starved hounds, they fell 
to work, giving better evidence by their actions than 
they had by words, of being hungry. 

Touched with pity, the lady, aside, said to her hus- 
band: 

“ Mr. Foresti, can we not give employment to these 
poor lads ?” 

“I’ll venture my life on it,” replied the husband, 
“they have no wish for employment, unless it were to 
do some devilment.” - 

“Oh, certainly, they would gladly accept of some- 
thing to do whereby they might earn their bread, and 
clothe themselves more decently. It will at any rate 
be an act of charity to give them an opportunity to 
improve their condition.” 

“My dear,” said Mr. Foresti, a little impatiently, 
“I want no such reprobate, scarecrow-looking fellows 
about me.” 

“As for that, I can soon improve their appear 
ance; of course I wouldn’t allow them to wear sucL 
rags, and go unwashed and uncombed as they now 
are. Possibly we might reform their habits and teach 


Danger in the Dark. 201 

them decency; that, you know, would be a great 
thing.” 

“Yes, and a mighty great undertaking too; nor 
am I just now in the humor to set about it; I’d as 
soon think of taming a wild ass’ colt as to attempt 
civilizing either one of them chaps. It ’s plain to be 
seen they ’re two young devils ; and if they are never 
hanged, they ’ll never get justice. Notice the expres- 
sion of low cunning and trickery in the eye of the 
older one, who calls himself Felix Dupin. I ’ll war- 
rant him a snake in the grass. The other is less 
shrewd, but has more of the dog in him.” 

“True, ’t is obvious they are depraved and untu- 
tored as the wild Arab ; but consider they never, per- 
haps, in all their lives had one wholesome lesson of 
instruction, and maybe not a single word of good 
advice. What then could we -expect of them ?” 

“ Sure enough, that ’s what I want to know — what 
could we expect? I expect to have nothing to do 
with stragglers of whom we can nothing expect.” 

“ But however degraded, they are not beyond the 
reach of hope.” 

“ No, nor the reach of a rope.” 

“Wholesome influences might save them.” 

“I know society would be saved a deal of trouble, and 
experience something wholesome, if all such fellows 
were packed off to purgatory, where they should be. 

“ But they may be redeemed.” 

“ Doubtful.” 

“Anyhow, its worth the trial.” 

16 


202 


Danger in the Dark. 


“ Only consider, Mrs. Foresti, how many thousands 
of such boys there are in this city of Rome ; look at 
the gangs of beggars we daily meet on the streets; 
and it is so throughout all Italy. On every hand, we 
see multitudes of idle, dissipated, animalized young 
men and boys, who depend for subsistence on begging, 
stealing and. robbery ! You’ll have your hands full, 
at least, if you undertake to reform the habits, and 
improve the condition of all who need it.” 

“ The facts to which you refer, Mr. Foresti, the 
deplorable ignorance and consequent viciousness of 
the youth of this country, cause me to be astonished, 
that the Pope is forever taxing us here, for the purpose 
of building up schools and colleges in the United 
States — when such institutions are so much more 
needed in our own country.” 

“ You are always finding fault with the Pope, and 
casting slurs upon our holy religion.” 

“Say not so, my dear husband; I’ve never been 
disposed to wound your feelings, yet I speak of things 
that look strange to me. I dare say, you cannot your- 
self be blind to the glaring inconsistency of sending 
so much money from this benighted land, where more 
than nine -tenths of the population are entirely illiter- 
ate, and have not the means nor opportunity of ob- 
taining education, to another nation, abundantly 
more blessed in educational advantages, as well as in 
every other respect. Throughout the United States, 
the people are supplied with free schools ; and the 
poor are educated as well as the rich. Were this 


Danger in the Dark. 


203 


oppressed and down-trodden Italy favored, as is Amer- 
ica, with public schools, we should behold less degrada- 
tion, idleness, vice and misery in our midst.” 

44 But, suppose thereby, heresy should be introduced, 
and millions led away from the true faith 

“A religion that can’t stand the light, ought to 
fall ; let such a system be turned out of doors and 
given to the winds !” 

44 Yes, I ’ve long known you ’d like to have Catho- 
licity given to the winds.” 

“ If education, as you seem to think, makes heretics, 
why do the Hierarchy put forth strenuous efforts to 
multiply institutions of learning beyond the Atlantic ?” 

44 Why, it has been found impossible to gain any- 
thing like a permanent foothold in that country, with- 
out establishing schools; the Catholic clergy ’could 
wield no influence among Americans, without show- 
ing themselves favorable to education. There they 
have schools connected with their nunneries ; and a 
great many Protestants are induced to send their chil- 
dren to the nunneries to be educated ; that affords an 
opportunity of teaching them the Catholic religion ; 
and it is said, a great many are won over to the faith 
in that way ; beside, their schools furnish employment 
for many of the nuns, and are sources of considerable 
income to the Church.” 

44 Then you own, ’tis not for the sake of enlightening, 
unfolding and improving the mind, that the Catholic 
church is establishing schools in America — but the 
profit, credit and influence thus secured P’ 


204 


Danger in the Dark. 


“The object is, of course, to build up the Church ; 
and by whatever means that can be accomplished, 
they are satisfied. When the Catholic clergy of the 
United States get things properly into their own 
hands, they’ll not want so many schools.” 

“ No, I reckon not ; but God forbid they ever should 
get things into their own hands, in that free and 
heaven -favored country! I’d weep to think that glo- 
rious land of liberty, would ever bow the neck to 
papal despotism !” 

“ You presume too much, Mrs. Foresti, on the be- 
nevolence of my nature; I doubt if there’s another 
Catholic husband in Rome, or in all Italy, to whom a 
wife could with impunity say as much against the 
Church, as you repeatedly and habitually utter in my 
hearing. ’Tis unaccountable, that you dare speak so 
freely, when you know it becomes my religious duty to 
inform against you.” 

“ Such a duty, my love, I ’m well satisfied, you pos- 
sess too much of 4 the milk of human kindness’ ever 
to discharge.” 

“The thought of having you brought before the 
holy Inquisition, is heart-rending to me !” 

“You’d risk hell first, my darling!” 

“Nothing so much grieves me, as the heresy and 
republican principles that poison your mind.” 

“ I own that I’m a heretic and a republican, in the 
estimation of Rome ; and I rejoice in it !” 

“ It shocks me to hear you say so ; for lighter offenses, 
many have been condemned to torture and death.” 


I 


Danger in the Dark. 205 

“ Doubtless ! and that very thing, is a terrible argu- 
ment against Popery : a religion that so hardens the 
heart and destroys natural affections, cannot be of 
heaven. Your kind forbearance toward me, as a her- 
etic, only proves that the blinding superstition, and 
the vindictive and sanguinary spirit of Romanism, 
has not struck in upon you so deeply as upon most 
Catholics.” 

“ Say rather, that my forbearance toward you, is 
owing to my weakness, and want of fidelity to the 
Church and to the vicar of Christ.” 

“ I glory in such weakness and infidelity, as makes 
a man, a man ! rather than a beast or a demon. 
What, but a beast or demon, could see his wife or his 
child, in the merciless hands of bloody-minded and 
relentless inquisitors? Yet there are in Rome, hus- 
bands and fathers, that have turned informants, and 
dragged their own wives and their own children, be- 
fore that infernal spiritual court, to suffer chains, im- 
prisonment, the dungeon and the rack ! Among Catho- 
lics, you are one of a thousand, whose humanity is to 
be trusted w T hen Popery ’s in question ; those who 
adopt the monstrous faith, rarely resist so long and 
well, its blighting and withering effects upon the 
generous feelings and noble impulses of the heart. 
But enough of this : now what about these unfortu- 
nate boys ?” 

“ I care not.” 

“ They may be susceptible at least, of some im- 
provement.” 


206 


Danger in the Dark. 


“Well, take them into the garden, if you choose 
and see if they ’ll work.” 

Ever delighted with opportunities of doing good / 
and of extending a helping-hand to downtrodden 
humanity, Mrs. Foresti hastened to inform the lads, 
who by this time had glutted themselves to the satis- 
fying of their voracious appetites, that they could have 
employment, and a chance of earning an honorable 
living. The good lady was a little surprised at the 
apparent indifference with which the destitute crea- 
tures received the intelligence; they however followed 
her to the garden, and according to her directions, 
went to work with the implements she furnished them. 
Returning to the house quite elated, she said to her 
husband : - 1 / 

“ I ’ll make men of them boys, Mr. Foresti, see if 
I don’t.” 

“I’ll see if you do: but expect to see you don’t.” 

“ They may astonish you.” 

“I’ll be most astonished, if they do not astonish 
you.” 

“ They went to work like fine fellows ; depend upon 
it, there ’s a come-out in them.” 

“I wish it may be so, my dear, I know you are 
generally in the right in all matters, except religion — 
and it grieves me much, that you ’re a heretic in that.” . 

Saying this, he stepped to a back window to take 
another peep at the hopeful lads, whom, he began to 
feel, might be more promising than he at first had 
imagined. 


Danger in the Dark. 


207 


u Sure enough, Mrs. Foresti, I begin to think you 
hit the mark, when you said there was a come-out in 
them chaps, for they ’ve come out of the garden already. 
Ah ! look yonder, what ragged scamps are them I see 
going full speed down yon alley, with hoes on their 
shoulders ? They look very like the fellows you ’re 
about to make men of.” 

“ It can’t be possible they ’ve run away so soon !” 

“Yes, my word for it, the little devils have 
absconded, and stolen your hoes in the bargain. Ida !• 
ha ! I reckoned on something of that sort — by no 
means astonished, since you ’re astounded. How you 
open your eyes, my dear ! just waked up haven’t you ? 
Ah! you would believe they were angels — lacking 
only the wings ! — And you ’d have thought they were 
not altogether without wings either, had you seen 
their rags flyifig in the wind, as I did just now !” 

“ Poor depraved beings !” exclaimed the lady, look- 
ing sorrowful, •*“ I pity them more than ever.” 

“ Pity them ? now that ’s singular ! I suppose then, 
if they should come back, and steal a couple more 
hoes, you ’d double your pity on them. Let me get 
hold of the scape-gallowses — I’ll pity them with a 
vengeance !” 

“ Only consider how the unhappy mortals, have 
been brought up !” 

“I’d rather consider how they’re to be brought 
down.” 

“ Think of their miserable opportunities !” 

“Pm sure you gave them a most gracious oppor- 


208 


Danger in the Dark. 


tunity ; nor did they fail to improve it. Those imple- 
ments they carried off, will buy whisky enough to 
keep them drunk a whole week. That’s what you 
get, by trying to rob the devil of his own; ’tis no 
use— you might as well expect, 

“ — Auld N’ickie-ben 
Wad take a thought. 

An’ men’;” 

I saw at a glance, the mark of Cain upon them !” 

“It’s the want of instruction — that’s all. Educa- 
tion and discipline, are indispensable ; without which, 
there is no salvation for children, at least none in this 
lower world.” 

“Always harping on education — the necessity of 
education! As if it were intended^ for the common 

V'j* - ; 

people — what use have such hedgehogs as you fed 
here just now, so bountifully, and who repaid you 
with treachery and theft, what .use I say, have they 
for education ?” 

“ A great deal of use — it would transform them !’’ 

M Yes, from sinners to reprobates — from little devils 
to big ones !” 

u Education has no such tendency.” 

“ It has not upon those for whom it is intended.” 

“ Heaven intended education for all.” 

“ But the devil intends to be the schoolmaster of 
the majority.” 

“ No doubt, he ’ll educate those whom Church and 
State neglect. An empty, idle head, is Satan’s work- 
shop.” 


Danger in the Dark. 209 

“ You couldn’t beat education into the brains of 
them tarnal boys with a sledge-hammer !” 

u But you might with books and kind words.” 

“It’s no use talking — the Pope and his councils 
have decided, that learning is not for the masses.” 

“ Yes, and in that, have given incontestable proof, 
that they themselves are asses.” 

“ Oh horror !” exclaimed the husband, raising his 
hands imploringly, and starting wildly from his seat, 
as if shocked t$ the very center of his soul. 

“ What, a sti(5h in your side ?” said Mrs. Foresti, a 
little provokingly. 

“ Freely would I part with all I possess on earth, to 
have you become a. true believer.” 

“ But if I can’t believe Bomanism, how can I ? I 
can’t without I can — can 1 ?” 

44 Many a one has been compelled to believe.” 

“ Compelled Va'ther, to profess belief.” 

“ Ah, if you were once to see and feel the curling 
flames kindling about you, you’d be glad to believe.” 

“ Can belief be forced by fire and fagot ? ’Tis an 
easy matter to profess to believe what we do not ; but 
of what account is an empty profession \ it may de- 
ceive priests, but God knoweth what is in the heart. 
Nothing can be conceived of, more preposterous, than 
the idea of coercing belief, and producing faith in the 
mind by torturing the body.” 

Foresti shook his head despairingly, and turned 
away with downcast looks, saying to himself 

“ Incorrigible 1 incorrigible !” 

IT 


CHAPTER XVII. 


How it happened that Dupin and Bcdini got to be priests — The 
cause of their subsequent promotion — Mrs. Foresti dragged before 
the Inquisition — Suffers death for reading and concealing inter- 
dicted books. 

From boyhood to manhood, steeped in crime — con- 
stantly devising mischief, and plotting schemes ’of 
devilment, Dupin and Bedini naturally became, fit 
instruments for any undertaking that required a sacri- 
fice of honor, principle and conscience. Such men 
readily find favor in the eyes of tyrants, when they 
need tools for servile and despicable purposes. 

A Jesuit priest of some sagacity, by chance making 
the acquaintance of Dupin, about the time he had 
arrived at the age of manhood, thought he discovered 
in him admirable talent for subserving the interests of 
the holy order, and immediately laid before him in- 
ducements to enter the priesthood, and take the 
Jesuits’ oath. To yield to these solicitations, Dupin’s 
habits of idleness inclined him, so he was suddenly 
metamorphosed into a priest, of the Jesuit stamp. 
Now unwilling to be separated from his companion in 
wickedness, and also desiring to have a tool, while 
he himself, consented to become such in the hands of 

others,' he opened the way in a very short time, for 
( 210 ) 


Danger in the Dark. 211 

Bedim, to enter the priesthood and also the Society of 
Jesus. 

That they might be the better qualified to practice 
the arts of Jesuitism, the necessity of acquiring a 
knowledge of letters, was urged upon them. This 
seemed an onerous task — especially to Bedini ; yet in 
the course of a few years, they both succeeded in ac- 
quiring education enough to read and write. With 
these attainments, they were satisfied, as respected 
literature and science, 

The city of Borne, and indeed the whole country, 
being overrun with indolent, idle and destitute priests, 
who received but a scanty support and precarious 
living, Dupin conceived the idea of rendering some 
signal service to the Pope, in order to gain promotion ; 
for he found that to be a priest, without being a favor- 
ite of the sovereign Pontiff, was no great advantage. 

Putting himself on the look-out to perform some 
feat in Jesuitical artifice, he was not long in finding a 
chance to try his hand. A rumor had somehow got 
afloat, that certain of Martin Luther’s books, favor- 
able to the reformation in the sixteenth century, were 
being read and circulated among a class of 
who had some time been suspected of holdin 
lican and Protestant principles.' ** Seizing eagerly the 
opportunity, Dupin set about ferreting out the matter — • 
and showed himself exceedingly zealous in hunting 
down the vile heretics, who should dare possess, and 
presume to read books which had been condemned 
and interdicted by his holiness the Pojfe. 


I 


.tizens 

'ep#)- 


212 


Danger in the Dark. 


Those who had in their possession the proscribed 
works, chanced to make the discovery, that Dupin was 
acting the spy : taking alarm, they collected all the 
interdicted books together, and concealed them in the 
house of a widow, whom they thought in no danger 
of being suspected. 

This widow, it may be here observed, was the be- 
nevolent Mrs. Foresti, whose acquaintance the reader 
has previously made — and whose husband was now 
deceased. 

Discovering he was regarded with suspicion, and 
on that account not likely to make the desired dis- 
covery, Dupin set his wits to work and conceived 
another stratagem, on which he thus soliloquised : 

“I ’ll go to Bedini, and put him on the track ; he ’s 
not sharp, but I can drill him into some shrewdness. 
He shall go in the character of a blind beggar; a pair 
of goggles over his eyes will do to indicate his blind- 
ness — but he mustn’t be totally blind; for then it 
would seem too miraculous for him to travel alone — 
let him profess to discern objects dimly ; in that con- 
dition he may with impunity go lounging about from 
house^to house; and should no one suspicion him, he’ll 
stand a fair chance to catch some heretic reading the 
odious books. That I may not lose the honor of it, 
nor miss the reward which the Pope decrees to inform- 
ants, it must be understood between us that he return 
immediately to me in case he gets a clue to the 
whereabouts of any such books, that I may stand 
foremost in the affair.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


213 


In a very few days the plan was all arranged 
between Bedini and himself. After being properly 
advised and severely drilled, Bedini was suitably dis- 
guised for playing the part of a blind beggar, and set 
forth on his execrable mission. 

Known to no one in the vicinity whither Dupin 
instructed him to go, and having by no means an 
inferior gift for dissembling, Bedini passed from house 
to house without the slightest suspicion being awak- 
ened as to his being other than what he seemed. 
Alms were freely bestowed upon him by the suspected 
heretics ; he was kindly entertained, and allowed the 
privilege of tarrying at their houses as long as he 
chose. His efforts to discover the hated books turn- 
ing out fruitless in every probable place, he at last 
went to the house of Mrs. Foresti, whom he readily 
recognized as the lady who had fed Dupin and him- 
self when they were lads, and whose garden utensils 
they had stolen in return for her charity. Mrs. For- 
esti, however, had no recollection of him. Of course, 
he had no disposition to make himself known, but 
humbly asked liberty to tarry a few days, as he was 
homeless and destitute. The benevolent woman hes- 
itated not to grant his request, and did all she could 
to make him comfortable. 

One afternoon, throwing himself carelessly upon a 
lounge, he pretended to fall" asleep, and began to 
snore, in the meantime keeping watch of his hostess. 
He discovered her stealthily take a book from an old 
chest which stood in one corner of the room where he 


214 


Danger in the Dark. 


was lounging; then going to a remote part of the 
house she sat down, turning her back upon the sleeper, 
or rather the spy, and opening the book began silently 
to peruse its pages. 

Raising himself softly from his recumbent posture, 
Bedini crept slily along till he was able to look over 
the lady’s shoulder into the open book she held before 
her. Satisfying himself that it was one of the inter- 
dicted works, the intruder receded as stealthily as he 
had approached. He perhaps could not have escaped 
her observation had it not happened at the moment 
that one of her children, a little girl of three years, 
was fondling upon her, throwing her tiny arms about 
her ma’s neck, and playing with her luxuriant curls ; 
this probably prevented the slight noise made by 
Bedini’s approach from attracting the attention of Mrs. 
Foresti. Exulting in his success, the ungrateful wretch 
hurried to Dupin to make report of his discovery. 
****** 

The arrest of Mrs. Foresti — the manner of it — the 
heartless proceedings of the Inquisition — her sentence 
and execution, present too dark and revolting a pic- 
ture to dwell upon. The reader will gladly excuse 
me from the painful task of minute description, and 
no doubt be gratified that I do not here draw aside the 
curtain to exhibit all the horrid features of the barbar- 
ous scene, and set forth in detail the h«art-sickening 
tragedy. The fate of Mrs. Foresti was that of many 
others in papal countries, who have had the misfor- 
ture to fall into the hands of Inquisitors. 


Danger in the Dark. 


215 


With miraculous fortitude and unparalleled heroism 
she endured the cruel death to which she was con- 
demned by the Spiritual Court. When led to the 
stake, she said : 

“ To die thus is nothing to the thought of having 
my two precious little daughters torn away, to be cast 
into a convent, robbed of their innocence, and become 
the slaves of degraded and brutal priests !” 

The heretical books found in her possession, the 
reading and concealing of which constituted her 
offense, helped to light the flames that consumed her 
body. 

Her estate was confiscated, and became the property 
of the Church. The informants received their reward, 
and were soon after promoted : Bedini being sent 
Intern uncio to Brazil, and Dupin a missionary to the 
United States. 


CHAPTER XVIII . 


Bedini recalled from Brazil in disgrace — ■ Re-establishes himself in 
favor with the Papal Court by acting the spy — Proves traitor to 
the Republic — Is guilty of the death of Ugo Bassi. 

Not long was Bedini destined to wear unsullied 
his new honors, which sat upon him with so little 
grace. His secretary, Don Tintori, and every one he 
took with him in his suite to Brazil, abandoned him 
at the expiration of two months, on account of the 
dissoluteness of his conduct. The prelates of Brazil 
made such numerous and loud complaints to the Pope, 
of Bedini, that he was recalled in a few months, and 
ordered to leave immediately, without awaiting his 
successor. Returning to Rome, he received a subor- 
dinate appointment in the state department as a mark 
of punishment. It was not long, however, till he 
managed to re-establish himself in favor with the 
Papal court, and cause his vices to be overlooked. 
This he accomplished by again acting the spy. To 
pass over numerous acts of servility and intrigue 
which served to ingratiate him with the Pope, we 
will proceed to notice that of his basely proving traitor 
to the Republic of which he was a subject in 1849, 
and becoming the spy of the Pope in the city of 

Bologna, for which crime, according to the laws sanc- 
( 216 ) 


Danger in the Dark. 217 

tioned by all nations, he should have suffered an 
ignominious death. 

There were at Bologna two regiments of Swiss, 
numbering about 4000, who were in the service of 
the Republic. Bedini took upon himself the mission 
of going in disguise to Bologna in order to corrupt 
the Swiss, and induce them to leave the service 
of the Republic. The Swiss proved incorruptible, 
and Bedini redoubled his seduction and promises; 
but the whole affair was soon discovered. The city 
was alarmed, and the surrounding towns put on their 
guard — for Bedini’s instructions were that the Swiss 
should open themselves- a path by force, collect by 
threats the most money they possibly could in the 
towns through which they were to pass, and carfy it 
to the Pope. 

The governor of Bologna, in his too great clemency, 
allowed Bedini, the infamous spy, to escape. The 
republican government, becoming fearful of the regi- 
ments, owing to what had passed, ordered them to 
be immediately disbanded. “And it is a curious 
circumstance,” remarks an Italian, “that of all the 
soldiers thus set at liberty, not one returned to the 
service of the Pope.” 

But this crime in Bedini, though worthy of death, 
was nothing, compared with the brutality, and infer- 
nal malignity he displayed in the assassination and 
torture of Ugo Bassi, a man of uncommon talent and 
virtue, who had been taken captive, and placed as a 
political prisoner at the disposal of Bedini. 


218 


Danger in the Dark. 


At that time, Bedini was Commissioner Extraor- 
dinary of the Four Legations, which post bestows 
sovereign power ; and holding this post, Bedini was 
made supreme president of a council, composed of 
the most infamous of the Pope’s police for judging 
political crimes. 

In such high estimation was Ugo Bassi held by the 
citizens of Bologna, that, even Bedini’s vile instru- 
ments of barbarous vengeance hesitated. But clothed 
as he was with sovereign power, Bedini, in person, 
entered the council-chamber, and ordered that sen- 
tence of death be immediately pronounced. This 
put the whole city in commotion, and multitudes 
interceded for the esteemed Bassi — among whom, was 
the Archbishop Oppizzoni ; but Bedini proved inex- 
orable, and cited an especial order of the Pope which 
he had received before Bassi was taken prisoner. The 
cruel monster was not satisfied with having the patriot 
put to death, but commanded that he first be flayed 
alive ! Torture for political prisoners, in k barbarous 
ages, was common; but to revive it in the nineteenth 
century, was only worthy of Bedini, and his master 
the Pope of Borne. 

’T was thus Bedini rose to eminence, without talents 
or virtue. Wishing to hasten from the contemplation 
of so despicable a wretch, and his bloody deeds, I 
forbear further mention of him in his own country ; 
but shall in a subsequent chapter, have occasion to 
speak of his visit to the United States in the char- 
acter of the Pope’s Nuncio. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


V 

Alonzo hesitates to renew the engagement — Successful effort in re- 
forming an inebriate. 


Alonzo Carleton seriously hesitated in taking 
any steps toward renewing his engagement with Anna 
Maria — though he loved her still, treated her kindly, 
even affectionately, and greatly rejoiced to see her mind 
free from the shackles of superstition. He felt, keenly 
felt, and could not help but feel, that she had illy 
requited his ardent love, and been the cause of his 
falling into profligate and dissipated habits. He en- 
tertained too, some secret fears that the mischievous 
and infatuating errors of Romanism had produced a 
lasting deleterious effect, and left a canker in her sou], 
from which she might never recover. Considering 
himself fully released from the engagement made 
prior to Maria’s entering the convent, Alonzo felt at 
perfect liberty to drop the matter if he chose, yet did 
not altogether make up his mind to do so. 

Having thoroughly reformed his habits, and aban- 
doned his infidel principles, the naturally benevolent 
disposition of his heart returned to what it once was, 
and led him to seek every possible opportunity of 

doing good. ^ 

( 219 ) 


220 


Danger in the Dark. 


Not many days after his return to the Queen city, 
he was passing down Third street, and on coming 
opposite the St. Charles, chanced to cast his eye round 
upon that sink of iniquity, when a well dressed, good- 
looking young man came staggering out of the door, 
much intoxicated. Forcibly reminded of what he 
himself had been, Alonzo suddenly paused, and fix- 
ing his eyes upon the youthful inebriate, silently con- 
templated him. The young man returned his gaze — • 
and after a moment’s pause, said : 

“Well may you stare at me, Carleton — but for you 
I had not been a drunkard !” 

This remark struck Alonzo with surprise ; for he 
remembered not to have seen the inebriate before. 
The young man turned to walk away. 

“ Stop,” said Alonzo ; “ I must know who it is that 
lays his sin at my door.” 

“Yes, yes,” stammered the other, “you have for- 
gotten the boy Allen, who accompanied you in your 
first spree, and whom you persuaded, against his will 
and mother’s advice, to take the intoxicating cup.” 

“ Alas ! Allen, is it you ? O, my folly ! my wick- 
edness ! my villainy!” exclaimed Alonzo, overwhelmed 
with the dreadful thought of having been the ruin of 
the noble youth ; for such indeed he was. Approach- 
ing him, Alonzo threw his arms about his neck, and 
wept over him. 

“ ’T is too late, Carleton, to lament my fate now — 
I ’m lost ! — but I forgive you.” 

“ Forgive me not ; I don’t deserve to be forgiven.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


221 


“ Say no more.” And he turned away. 
c Allen, yon must go with me, I want to persuade 
you to leave off drinking.” 

“ Tiy to reform others — me you cannot save ; the 
car has too deeply sunk.” 

“ But stop, I entreat you ; go with me, we ’ll talk no 
more now ; but when you get sober I know you ’ll 
listen to me.” Taking him by the arm, Alonzo con- 
strained the inebriate to accompany him to his room ; 
where he tarried till the following day. 

When he became duly sober, Alonzo sat down by 
his side, and in the gentle tones of kindness, addressed 
him thus ; 

“ My unfortunate friend, I need not allude to the 
evils that bestrew the path of intemperance ; though 
yet but a young man, you perhaps know them all. 
Having myself trod that, wretched, dark and thorny 
way of ruin, I’m prepared to feel for, and deeply 
sympathize with you. And having myself been re- 
claimed from the black and awful gulf of dissipation, 
that had well nigh swallowed up all that rendered life 
desirable, I have hope of you.” 

“’Tis a vain hope; again and again have I tried 
to reform ; ’tis useless to think of it, I cannot abstain 
from intoxicating drinks.” 

u Say not so; have you nothing to live for ; to hope 
for ?” 

“ Almost nothing !” 

“Iam persuaded you do not consent to a life, all 
aimless and objectless !” 


222 


Danger in tiie Dark. 


“ I once had aims, exalted and towering — my heart 
was set on objects, noble and enchanting.” 

u And have they so soon vanished ?” 

“ All turned to smoke — disappeared from my sight, 
as vapors from the eye of the sun.” 

“ But they will return again.” 

“ No, never ; forsaken of friends, and without con- 
fidence in myself — I esteem all lost! Since no one 
cares for me, why should I care for myself? Once 
drive a man to the wall, wound his pride, tread rudely 
upon his sensibilities, blot out his hopes, crush his 
soul, and leave him helpless and abandoned — and 
what can you expect, other, than that he become a 
knave, ready to set his life upon any chance, to mend 
or get rid of it ?” 

“ But you are not a knave, Allen Seamore.” 

“ Trust me not ; trust no man, who feels himself in 
the world without friends.” 

“You but imagine youself friendless.” 

u My nearest and dearest relatives scorned and 
shunned me, when first I began to indulge in strong 
drink ; I might then have been redeemed — but unkind- 
ness goaded me on ; from drinking I was led to gamb- 
ling, from gambling to swindling, and to tell the truth, 
I am plunged into the very depths of wretchedness and 
vice ; and the treatment I am daily receiving from the 
hollow-hearted, is but rendering me still more reckless. 
Society takes great pains to make unfortunate men 
dishonest.” 

u I know the uncharitableness of friends, and the 


Danger in the Dark. 


223 


vile blows and buffets of the world, are calculated to 
corrode the purest affections of the heart, and drive 
the noblest minds to desperation. But forget not you 
are a young man, and may yet make friends, and see 
many happy days. A reformation of life, which cer- 
tainly at your age is not impossible, would directly 
draw around you a circle of friends, and no doubt, 
enable you to regain those you have lost.” 

“But bound as I am, by the force of habit, and 
accustomed to seek relief from ennui, in the intoxicat- 
ing cup, it hardly seems possible for me now to effect 
a reformation. When I take one dram, I want 
another — and then still worse, I want another ; and so 
it is, I ’ve no control of myself any more, and yield 
without resistance to every temptation.” 

“ The only safe ground, Mr. Seamore, is total ab- 
stinence ; there is no security so long as we allow our- 
selves to touch alcoholic beverages ; we must not tam- 
per with the serpent, nor go where it is ; to be out of 
gunshot of temptation, we must keep it clear out 
of sight.” 

“But how shall I ? it presents itself on the corners, 
along the streets, upon the highways, and everywhere 
it awaits to seduce and ensnare the unwary.” 

“ True, there, I know, from unhappy experience, the 
chief difficulty and great danger lies. Alas, that law 
should protect and uphold the evil — and alas, that the 
public coffers should be replenished by granting license 
to men, to engage in a calling so iniquitous, and so 


224 


Danger in the Dark. 


injurious to society, as is the vending of strong drink ! 
But allow me to recommend to you the temperance 
pledge; I found it of signal advantage to myself — 
and am sure it will be to you.” 

“I ought to reform, and will perhaps, make the 
attempt; but incline to the opinion that total absti- 
nence would be more difficult for me, than a reforma- 
tion to moderate drinking; if I attempt to quit it, 
altogether, I shall be more likely to fail.” 

“In that, be assured, you will find yourself mis- 
taken: he who drinks at all, is in a position perilous 
to himself ; and also under the influence of an evil 
that has a deleterious effect upon others. Moderate 
drinking is the road to immoderate ; ’tis a down -hill 
way, and the lower we get the greater is the difficulty 
of climbing up again : keep out of the current, if you 
would not be swept into the whirlpool.” 

“I cannot deny the correctness ^of your position, 
but feel that for me it : would be an Uncertain under- 
taking.” / 

“Nothing will be lost by making the effort; and 
if successful, you will have gained all. My friends 
sometimes accuse me of being actuated by too much 
zeal in the cause of temperance; my apology is, I 
have felt the withering curse; I know its ruinous 
power; I’ve seen its deep damnation! and having 
been rescued from the horrible pit of inebriety, I 
want to save others. Nor will I be satisfied, till I 
see the Upas of intemperance torn up by the roots, 


Danger in the Dark. 


225 


and cast out from the earth it encumbers. Here now 
is the pledgq, it will give me unspeakable pleasure to 
see you sign it.” 

“Well, at all events, I ’ll comply with your request 
that far, since you ’re kind, and take so much inter- 
est in my welfare.” Taking the pen from Alonzo’s 
hand, with trembling nerves he wrote his name. 

“You ’ve now signed the pledge, Allen, and I doubt 
not will keep it too.” 

“I’ll try.” 

Who can estimate the result of that one simple act ! 
Allen Seamore never drank again; became an ex- 
emplary good and virtuous citizen — an esteemed, and 
eminently useful man. 

18 


L* % 

* « 

# kk 



CHAPTER XX. 


Conversation on the propriety of forming a Protestant alliance — 

Encroachments of Popery — Priestly aggression. 

Deeply convinced as he was of the mischievous 
errors, anti-republican principles, and despotic ten- 
dency of Romanism, and regarding the papal clergy 
as generally corrupt and intriguing, Alonzo Carleton 
conceived the design, and was impressed with the 
propriety of forming a Protestant alliance, for the pur- 
pose of promoting vigilance in guarding against 
priestly aggression, and resisting the encroachments 
of Popery. 

The first movement he made in this respect, was 
in a select circle of his Protestant friends and ac- 
quaintances whom he had invited together to consult 
on the subject. Quite a variety of opinions were 
expressed; some approving, others disapproving of 
an organization. The discussion was conducted in 
a conversational manner, and drawn out at consider- 
able length. Carleton remarked as follows : 

“Romanists, and particularly the Jesuitical order 
of priests, have long been secretly, and are nov& 

openly arraying themselves against the free institu- 
( 228 ) 


Danger in the Dark. 


227 


tions of this country. So perfectly are the sworn 
bands of the Yatican organized, and so rapidly is 
their strength accumulating in America by foreign 
emigration, that it is high time the friends of liberty 
were upon the alert, and arming themselves for the 
contest. I mean, of course, a moral contest — a war 
between truth and error — a struggle between the 
principles of freedom and the spirit of despotism; 
which it is not impossible, however, may terminate 
in blood — as many such contests have in former times 
and other countries. The American people are cul-\ 
pably indifferent to the menaces of an arrogant and 
tyrannical Hierarchy, who owe no allegiance to this 
government, acknowledge no respect any longer, for 
our institutions, yet cease to disguise their intentions 
to manage the helm of state, and dictate to us in 
governmental affairs. Such an indifference is little 
short of downright stupidity ! Rome has ever been, 
and still is, tyrannical, vindictive and persecuting. 
Catholicism is now, what it ever has been, intolerant, 
and inquisitorial ; the open ally, and principal support 
of despotism ; still the same adversary of reform, 
progress, education and science, as in the day of 
Galileo. Unchanged in its spirit and doctrines, 
Romanism comes down as a black cloud from the 
dark ages, to overshadow the human mind, and bind 
the immortal faculties of the soul with the chains of 
ignorance, and the fearful shackles of bigotry and 
superstition. 

“ I hold in my hand a Catholic paper, published 


228 


Danger in the Dark. 


at St. Louis; it contains this remark, which I find 
in an editorial column: c The time is not remote, 
when there will be an end, in this country, to religious 
toleration.’ Surely this is a bold prediction, to be 
made in the nineteenth century, and in this land 
of liberty! beside it is most daring effrontery — 
coming as it does from an unnaturalized, and I might 
almost add, uncivilized foreigner. Had Papists the 
power, as they confessedly have the will, there would 
at once be an end, not only of religious toleration, 
but also of political freedom and civil liberty ! Pal- 
pable as is this truth, see what apathy exists in rela- 
tion to it ; wrapped in quiet slumbers, and indulging 
sweet dreams of peace, while an armed foe and 
treacherous enemy is stealing upon us in the dark !” 

U I cannot but regard your apprehensions, Mr. 
Carleton,” observed a genteel, yet somewhat pomp- 
ous looking man, “as almost, if not altogether 
groundless. For my own part, I see no cause of 
alarm; the tree of liberty has struck too deeply in 
American soil to be easily uprooted. Catholics 
coming to this country, become enlightened, and im- 
bued with republican principles ; and for aught I can 
discover to the contrary, make very good citizens. To 
be sure, I must admit, they are generally uneducated, 
and great numbers of them intemperate. If they have 
frequent rows, it is among themselves, and who cares. 
As for the clergy, I know, and care but little — yet 
certainly have no reason to doubt their sincerity.” 

“You speak of my groundless apprehensions, Mr. 


Danger in the Dark. 229 

Parsons ; how shall we judge of the future but by 
the past? What has Romanism been? What has 
Popery done ? rather what not done to oppress and 
injure frail humanity, darken the heavens, and spread 
desolation through the earth? The history of the 
Church of Rome, is a history of sanguinary persecu- 
tions, revolting inhumanities, proscription, intoler- 
ance, injustice, plots, intrigues and villainy ! It has 
ever been the aim of Rome to enslave mankind by 
means of cunning priestcraft; by the halter; the lash, 
and the dungeon ; the spy, and the brutal hireling 
soldier: and she has welcomed the co-operation of 
every despot, knave, and military robber. At this 
very moment, wherever papacy controls the military 
power, religious and political despotism exist.” 

“ Your picture is overdrawn, friend Carleton; you 
put on too much color. Come, be moderate — be rea- 
sonable.” 

“Does not the history of the world show, that 
wherever Popery extends its jurisdiction, and exercises 
a controlling influence, that there every onward move- 
ment is checked, liberal philosophy, mental freedom 
and development discountenanced — and an extin- 
guisher placed upon the lamp of science ? In vain 
is it denied, wherever Romanism sways the scepter, 
the reign of darkness and superstition is complete. 
And why should we wonder that it is so, since papists 
are taught abject, blind obedience to the clergy, and 
are led into the stupid belief, that the Church is in- 
fallible, and can never be wrong ; while all Protest- 


230 


Danger in the Dark. 


ant sects are heretical, and can never be right ; that 
the latter are hated of God, and should be despised 
and persecuted bj all true believers.” 

“Because the Pope and his Hierarchy have tram- 
pled down the masses in Europe, that is no evidence 
that Americans have anything to fear from Papal 
power and intrigue.” 

“ Why not ?” 

“We are a great and mighty nation, feared and 
envied by all the world, and still a bright and glorious 
future opens before us.” 

“Yes, but if we continue, as we have been doing, 
tamely to yield and uncomplainingly submit to the 
encroachments of Romanism, and allow a bigoted 
priesthood to infringe our rights with impunity, dis- 
regard and trample upon constitutional law, as they 
are now doing in their assaults upon the common 
schools of this country, we may soon surrender our 
liberties, abandon our pretensions to national great- 
ness, and sink back into the darkness and barbarism 
of the monkish ages.” 

“You allude to the Catholic movement against the 
common schools,” remarked Mr. Eldridge, who up to 
this time had been silent. “ Why have not Romanists 
a right to a division of the public school fund ? They 
pay taxes as well as Protestants.” 

“ They have the same privileges, too, that Pro- 
testants have of sending their children to the free 
schools.” 

“ But they have religious scruples with regard to 


Danger in the Dark. 231 

that ; the minds and hearts of their children, they 
say, might be tainted with heresy.” 

“Why need they have such fears? Sectarianism 
is not allowed in those schools ; that evil has most 
sedulously been guarded against. No religious tenets 
are taught, none whatever. Beside, in the selection 
of teachers for these schools, they are not questioned 
as to their religion ; they may belong to any church 
or to none — may be Catholic or Protestant.” 

“It is on that ground, perhaps, that the Bomish 
Hierarchy denounce the common schools as Godless ; 
and contend for connecting religious instruction with 
school education.” 

“ They would, however, be very far from allowing 
it to be any form of Protestant religion ; infinitely 
would they prefer none at all. But granting they are 
right in wanting schools for their children, in which 
their own peculiar religious principles are inculcated, 
why can they not do as other churches do, build them 
at their own expense, without asking to put their fists 
into the public treasury ? When Methodists, Presby- 
terians, Baptists or any other denomination want a 
sectarian school, or a school under their own particu- 
lar control and regulations, they uncomplainingly go 
to work and build such a one. Not one half the 
Protestants who pay school taxes send their children 
to the public schools ; and many who have no child- 
ren to be educated, willingly are taxed to support 
common schools for the public good ; but who makes 
a poor mouth about it except Papists ? who but 


232 


Danger in the Dark. 


Eomish priests ask for a division of the public school 
funds ? Protestants cheerfully submit to taxation for 
educational purposes, because they regard education 
in itself a blessing, as it unfolds and enlarges the 
mind; but Eomanists esteem a purely intellectual 
education, unmixed with the mummery and gross 
absurdities of their religion, as worse than useless.” 

“ Do you pretend to say Catholics attach no import- 
ance to education ?” 

“To be educated in the doctrine, and traditions of 
the Eomish church, they reckon highly important ; 
and in fact, to confer such an education as that is 
manifestly the main design of all their schools and 
colleges. That the Hierarchy really stand opposed to 
an education that invigorates and liberalizes the mind, 
is evident from the general tone of Catholic journals 
with reference to the common schools. One of these 
journals, published at Chicago, 111., recently con- 
tained the following remarks, addressed to Catholic 
parents : ‘ Eather than send your children to the 
state schools, let them go uneducated; better that 
they remain unable to read — a thousand times better ! 
Sooner let them grow up boors, and become hewers 
of wood and drawers of water, than be placed in 
those miserable sinks of iniquity, the free schools.’ 
Certain priests in this city recently held language in 
reference to the schools, compared with which, what 
I have just read you would appear decent, ever 
respectful.” 

“I grant such language is very unbecoming and 


Danger in the Dark. 


233 


immodest, however decidedly they may be opposed 
to the schools.” 

“ "Were Protestant ministers of any church to pur- 
sue a similar course, they would be hissed out of 
community. But from some cause or other, we put 
up with indecency, presumption and egotism, coming 
trom the Bomish clergy, that we would by no means 
tolerate in anybody else.” 

“ With regard to the common schools, we hardly 
know yet how they will work ; for my own part, I 
would be better pleased with them if they had some- 
thing more of a religious caste.” 

“In this system of popular education, as I under- 
stand it, it is intended that children be left free from 
all sectarian influence, and simply furnished with 
that knowledge which all consider essential. To my 
mind, it argues well for this system that it every- 
where receives the hearty approval of the impartial — 
persons swayed by no religious prejudices. Those 
within the pale of no church find nothing to com- 
plain of in thift-dmirable school system : why, then, 
should Catholics allege that it is but a scheme 
concocted by Protestant sects to take advantage of 
them ?” 

“ But waiving that matter, let me ask why is it, 
that Bomish priests, being opposed, as you maintain 
they are, to enlightening the masses, yet build up 
schools and colleges in this country ? Bo doubt you 
are ready to respond, that it is to give them an 
opportunity of teaching Bomanism. In reply to that 


234 


Danger in the Dark. 


I ’ll remark that in the prospectus of one of their 
female institutions I find the following: ‘Pupils of 
every religious denomination are admitted into this 
institution. No improper influence is ever used to 
bias the religious principles of young ladies, nor will 
any of the scholars be allowed to embrace the Catholic 
religion without a written or verbal permission from 
their parents.’ It is further stated, however, ‘ that for 
the sake of order, all the boarders are required to 
observe the general regulations of exterior worship.’ ” 
“Yes, but notice particularly the language used. 
It is not said, no influence will be exerted to bias the 
religious opinions of pupils, but ‘ no improper influ- 
ence’ is to be employed. What they would regard as 
proper the parents might' consider improper, if they 
could at all times be present to judge. And what sig- 
nifies their promise, even if it were made in good faith, 
which I ’m inclined to doubt, that scholars will not be 
allowed to embrace the Catholic religion without the 
consent of their parents % Observe in the prospectus 
this clause: ‘for the sake of order, all me boarders are 
required to observe the general regulations of exterior 
worship.’ That is, to unite in their prayers and 
devotions. Who that is at all acquainted with human 
nature can fail to see that the tender and susceptible 
mind of youth must be more or less impressed in this 
way ? And what considerate Protestant parents would 
think it a light matter to have the minds of their 
children filled with superstition, and imbued with the 
false and stupefying principles of Romanism ? 


Danger in the Dark. 


235 


<c A similar regulation may be found in the pro- 
spectus of St. Gabriel’s College, Yincennes, Indiana. 
1 There is no interference whatever, with the religious 
belief of the pupils, but for the sake of order,’ it is 
added, 4 they are expected to comply with the external 
forms of Catholic worship, which is the religion pro- 
fessed by the members of this college.’ 

“ Romanism, is a religion of pomp and show — of 
external rites and ceremonies ; and hence, is well cal- 
culated to favorably impress the young and unreflect- 
ing. Teachers acquire an almost unlimited influence 
over the minds of their pupils, and when so disposed, 
may do much in foraging their sentiments, and mold- 
ing their characters. Hence, the necessity of placing 
children in the hands of the Tight kind of instructors. 
The education of th^young, is a matter of inestimable 
importance ; and to whom shall we commit this im- 
portant trust ? Shall it be to a class of men, bound 
by the decisions and interpretations of the dark ages, 
who dare not freely and fully investigate the most im- 
portant branches of knowledge ? Shall it be to men 
who hold that the perfection of virtue consists, not in 
discharging well the duties of life in its ordinary rela- 
tions — but in fasting, celibacy, austerity, abjuring the 
world, and such like things ? 

“ Since the establishments of the Jesuits have been 
broken up in France, they are likely to become the 
principal teachers in the Roman schools of our coun- 
try ; and this circumstance must render it still more 
unsafe and unwise, for Protestants to patronize their 


236 


Danger in the Dark. 


institutions. In addition to the usual vows taken by 
monks and nuns, the Jesuit takes that of unlimited 
submission, and unconditional obedience to the Pope. 
Jesuits are a class of men, whose corrupt principles 
lead them to become the curse of every land where 
they are tolerated. In consequence of their political 
intrigues, their immoral principles and practices, 
they have been expelled successively by all the govern- 
ments of Europe. ‘Wearied at length,’ says Dr. 
Duff, ‘ and worn out by their unscrupulous rapacity 
and all grasping ambition, their treachery and strata- 
gems — their seductions and briberies — their intrigues 
and cabals — their laxation of public morals and dis- 
turbance of social order — their fomentings and sedi- 
tions, disloyalties and rebellions — their instigating 
massacres and parricidal cruelties, and royal assas- 
sinations — the monks and courtiers, judges and civil 
magistrates, churches and public schools, princes and 
emperors of all nations, in Europe, Asia, Africa and 
America — all, all, successively united their efforts in 
sweeping them clean away, and causing their institute 
to perish from off this earth, and from under these 
heavens 1’ 

“Pope Clement XIY, was constrained to suppress 
the order in July 1773 — an act which cost him his 
life ! For in a short period he was poisoned by these, 
his implacable enemies. But in 1814, Pius VII, re- 
instated this dangerous order in all its privileges, and 
now it is spreading its baneful influence over the 
whole world. 


Danger in the Dark. 


237 


u Romanists themselves, furnish conclusive evidence 
that the moral code of the order is most infamous. 

u But to return to the subject of Roman schools : 
you have alluded to the zeal they manifest in building 
up institutions of learning. Let me remind you, these 
institutions are considerable sources of income to the 
church. There is a nunnery near Bardstown, Ky., 
located on a farm of several hundred acres, 4 the num- 
ber of whose female boarders,’ says Dr. Rice, in his 
lectures on Romanism, 4 has averaged from one hun- 
dred to one hundred and fifty. The charges for each, 
including extras , would not be less, than one hundred 
and fifty dollars. The annual income of the institu- 
tion is not less than fifteen thousand dollars. The 
outlay is small, since their provisions are mainly 
raised on the farrn. Almost the whole of this money 
is earned by the nuns; 'yet they get no part of - it. 
Their coarse fare and clothing is all they receive. By 
the degradation of these poor women, the clergy are 
enriched ; and to make slaves of them, was their ob- 
ject-fin so shamefully deluding them. Some of the 
nuns are employed as teachers, some are house and 
kitchen servants, and some labor in the fields !’ 

“ Without murmuring, they do whatever the priests, 
their masters, bid them do — and tfiat without the hope 
of pecuniary reward. In referring to the nunnery 
near Bardstown, Dr. Rice remarks : 4 1 know not how 
others may feel, but it appears to me, that every 
Christian, and every American, should set his face 
against those prisons, where females are incarcerated 


238 Danger in the Dark. 

and degraded from the sphere they are destined to 
fill.’ 

u Then yon perceive, there may be other motives 
than a wish to educate, for the sake of enlightening, 
that induce Romish priests, in this country, to build 
up schools and colleges!” 

“ I ’ve heard a great deal about these nunneries, Mr. 
Carleton, but have been inclined to think them mis- 
represented ; at all events, that they are not the cor- 
rupt institutions some would have the world believe.” 

“ Gladly would I be persuaded, Mr. Eldridge, that 
naught but purity were to be found in them ; but when 
I have abundant testimony to the contrary, the force 
of which I cannot possibly resist, I would surely sin 
against truth and humanity to turn away from it with 
indifference.” ^ 

“What evidence then can be adduced, that the 
priests who have the supervision of such institutions, 
are impure men ? Let us have a single instance, well 
authenticated.” 

“Well then, let me give you an instance, which 
created no little excitement in the State of Kentucky, 
a few years ago ; and about which a good deal was 
said at the time, in the newspapers. I ’ll relate it to 
you in the language of Dr. Rice, who resided in 
Bardstown at the time the affair happened : 

“ 4 Some twelve years ago, a nun in Kentucky, left 
the institution with which she was connected, and 
returned to her father’s house, alleging as her reason, 
the improper conduct of the presiding priest toward 


Danger in the Dark. 


239 


her. Her father and relatives, were ignorant and 
bigoted papists. They regarded her as guilty of a 
horrid crime, in preferring charges against one of the 
holy priesthood ; and she was driven from home with 
threats of violence. She went to the house of a Bap- 
tist minister, a near neighbor, to whom she told her 
story. The report soon spread through the neighbor- 
hood, that this woman was charging the priest with 
immorality. A large proportion of the people were 
papists ; and of course there arose much excitement 
against her. She remained a short time in the neigh- 
borhood, and was suddenly missing; and from that 
day to this, she has never been heard of!’ Dr. Bice 
was then editing a paper in Bardstown ; he published 
the facts in the case. A suit for libel was instituted 
against him by the president of the St. Joseph’s 
College, in behalf of the priest implicated in the 
affair. The damages were laid at ten thousand dol- 
lars . The suit was pending twelve months. The 
Boman clergy of Kentucky fully identified themselves 
with the suit. The weight of all the nunneries in 
that region, of which there were several, was thrown 
into the scales. Eminent lawyers were employed on 
both sides. The priest had every motive to explain 
the mysterious absence of the nun, and to produce her 
before the public. The court decided, that the defend- 
ant was bound to prove the actual guilt of the priest, 
and that the missing nun, was the only competent 
witness in the plea of justification. Much testimony 
was taken, and many facts not previously published, 


240 


Danger in the Dark. 


were proved. The verdict of the jury gave the priest 
damages to the amount of one cent . The character 
of the jurymen was assailed by some of the friends 
of the priests, or the priests in disguise. In conse- 
quence of which the jurymen made a publication, stat- 
ing, that but for the instructions of the court, they 
would have been compelled to find a verdict for the 
defendant (Rice). The testimony was taken down at 
the time, signed by the court, and filed away among 
the records of the Nelson County Circuit Court. A 
full account of the trial, with the testimony in the 
ease, soon after was published in a small volume, as 
well as in several newspapers of the country. 

“The fate of Milly McPherson, the lost nun, is 
still involved in profound mystery. Many believe, 
and will believe, that she was/ murdered to prevent 
further exposures of the priests and nunneries. I 
might give you many similar instances, but it is 
unnecessary. 

“ Since you have alluded to the pledges of Catholic 
institutions not to interfere with the religious opinions 
of Protestant children, I will here state a fact well 
authenticated, to show how little they regard their 
pledges. Dr. Rice is my author, who now resides 
in St. Louis, and who not long since stated what I 
am about to relate, in the presence of a large assem- 
bly in Cincinnati ; I will give it in his own language : 
i A Protestant lady who resided in one of the southern 
states, several years ago, sent her adopted son to St. 
Mary's college in Kentucky, an institution under the 


Danger in the Dark. 241 

care of the Jesuits. About twelve months after she 
visited her son, and was surprised and exceedingly 
troubled when she ascertained that he had been 
already received into the Romish church. She im- 
mediately removed him from the college, and placed 
him under my care. I afterward published the facts 
as she stated them to me. The President of St. 
Joseph’s College, situated at Bardstown, made a 
publication in reply, in which he asserted that the 
boy’s mother was a Roman Catholic, whose dying 
request to his adopted mother was, to have him 
trained in that faith ; that he had learned this from 
the adopted mother herself; and that her son, a 
gentleman of high standing, had so directed the 
professors of St. Mary’s college; and he even ob- 
tained from one of those Jesuits a certificate to this 
effect. Providentially it so happened, that while the 
subject was exciting public attention, the gentleman 
who was said to have directed the boy to be taught 
the Romish faith, reached the town (Bardstown), 
and immediately gave me a certificate that he had 
given no such direction ; that the boy’s mother was 
not known to have been a Roman Catholic, and had 
never made such a request as the President of St. 
Joseph’s had pretended. Thus did those Rev. gen- 
tlemen abuse the confidence placed in them, and then 
fabricate stories to shield themselves from merited 
reproach.’ ” 

“After all, Mr. Carleton, you will admit, that such 
instances, while they prove that bad men have crept 


24:2 


Danger in the Dark. 


into the priesthood, do not establish the fact that, as 
a class, they are hypocritical and designing men.” 

“But such instances are so very numerous; and 
taken together with other circumstances, cause me 
to look upon Komish priests generally, as men not 
to be trusted.” 

“I must think you go too far in taking the position 
which you have done, that the Catholic clergy, as a 
class, are insincere in professing to be friends of 
education.” 

“I would like to know, if sincere, why they do 
not manifest some zeal in the cause of popular educa- 
tion in Italy, Spain, Portugal, Mexico and South 
America ? Why do they, as respects education, utterly 
neglect, and leave in deplorable ignorance the coun- 
tries where their faith is established ? In Mexico, 
where no other religious influence than Popery has 
been felt for generations past, the masses are sunk 
into the condition of semi-savages, and are shockingly 
destitute, alike of virtue and intelligence. There are 
a few colleges, as they are called, in Mexico, but in 
this country, they would not be considered respect- 
able primary schools. The clergy of that country are 
men of the worst of morals — ^openly engage in gam- 
bling, drinking, cock-fighting, and such like practices. 
Yet large sums of money are annually collected in 
Mexico, as well as in many other benighted Catholic 
countries, to build up Bomish schools and nunneries 
in the United States. It is undeniable, that in re- 
gions where the thick darkness of Papal ignorance and 


Danger in the Dark. 


243 


superstition prevail, there the Roman Catholic Hier- 
archy seem the least concerned to afford educational 
advantages — this is a significant fact. Look at the 
present condition of Italy: the people are ignorant, 
poor, and degraded — and their civil government 
could scarcely be worse than it is. In the city of 
Rome the Inquisition still exists: this fact, Bishop 
Hughes, in a recent controversy with a Protestant, 
was forced to admit — yet he denied its having an 
existence elsewhere at the present time. Let it be 
remembered then, that this monstrous tribunal, at 
this very moment exists under the immediate eye of 
the Pope, and with his approbation. Rome being 
the fountain-head of Catholicity, shall we reckon the 
Papal religion to have less purity there than in the 
streams which flow from it? ’Tis indeed a melan- 
choly comment on Romanism, that in the very metro- 
polis of Christendom, as Papists consider it, the people 
are found more ignorant, vicious, degraded, and mis- 
erably poor, than in any other part of the earth, where 
pretensions are made to civilization !” 

“Pray, tell me what has become of the former 
wealth of that country ?” 

“ Ah, go to the splendid churches, and look at the 
coffers of the clergy if you would know where it has 
gone. A greedy and avaricious priesthood has swal- 
lowed up the wealth of the whole land. And there 
is Spain too, once one of the most powerful kingdoms 
in the world — now lying in ruins — wasted and deso- 
lated by ferocious and protracted civil war; the people 


244 


Danger in the Dark. 


wretchedly poor, and the country overrun with ban- 
ditti — revolutions and insurrections of frequent occur- 
rence ! Spain stands before the world an instructive 
example of the withering, ruinous and damning influ- 
ence of Popery. I need not go further — casting your 
eye over the map of the world, you will find, that 
wherever Romanism has put down her foot, there 
misery, darkness and degradation appear. Shall the 
iron heel of the hideous monster be brought down 
upon American institutions ? Most unquestionably, 
Romanism is seeking to make this country what Italy 
is. Do you doubt it? Allow me to read you a brief 
extract from the last bull of his Holiness the Pope, 
addressed to the Bishops and other clergy in America. 
It runs thus : 

“ 4 General education promotes infidelity, and checks 
the progress of Catholicity ; Bible Societies are en- 
gines of mischief ; the freedom of the press is a most 
foul plague ; liberty of conscience a prolific source of 
heresy and crime ! Demolish these, and Catholicism 
has nothing to fear in America.’ 

“ Do such sentiments look friendly to the institu- 
tions of this country, the principles of Republicanism 
and the genius of our government!” 

“You, perhaps, too much overlook the fact, that 
Papists in the United States, particularly the Clergy, 
are very different from what they are in most other 
countries.” 

u I know they are different, at least so in outward 
act ; and wherefore ? for a very good reason — they are 


Danger in the Dark. 


245 


compelled to be. They well understand, that if out- 
wardly and openly, they were as reckless and aban- 
doned in this country, as priests are in Mexico, Spain 
or Italy, they would receive the scorn and utter con- 
tempt of the people. Yet the Catholic clergy of this 
country do not presume to censure the conduct of 
priests in Mexico, Italy or elsewhere. Were they to 
do so, they would thereby virtually deny the infalli- 
bility of the Church — which with Romanists, is an 
essential article of faith.” 

“ Now with regard to that doctrine of church infal- 
libility which papists hold, they have one argument 
which looks plausible — it is this: 1 the Church of 
Rome has never suffered division, nor schism, but 
stood firmly united, unmarred and unshaken, amid all 
the mutations that have been going on around it — 
amid revolutions, the rise and fall of kingdoms and 
empires’” 

“lam aware that is the boast of papists — but can 
you believe it ?” 

“ I dare not dispute it.” 

“ Surely you have overlooked some important his- 
torical events. You have failed to acquaint yourself 
with the great schism, which divided the Greek and 
Latin churches into two bodies, between which, to this 
day, there is no fellowship. And again, there too, 
was the great Western schism, in the fourteenth cen- 
tury, when there were at the same time three or four 
rival popes, each sustained by his party, and each ful- 
minating excommunications and* anathemas at the 


246 


Danger in the Dark. 


others, to the great dishonor of the Christian name. 
This schism agitated and divided the Western Church 
for half a century, and was terminated only by the 
deposition of all the popes and the election of a new 
one, by the council of Constance, which was effected 
after the See of Rome had been vacant, and the church 
had been without a head two years ! And there was 
also, the Arian heresy, which had its rise in the fourth 
century, and created no little division and disturbance 
in the Church. 

“ And a question arose more recently, which had 
the effect to separate the Church into two parties, viz: 
‘Is the Pope above a general council? — Yes, says 
one large party. No, says the other ; he is inferior to 
a general -council, and may be deposed by such a 
council.’ 

“ History records no facts better authenticated, than 
the frequent and terrible schisms, that in different 
ages rent the Catholic Church. 

u But aside from this, we have ample refutation of 
the pretended infallibility of the church, in the single 
fact that she has erred in science. The Roman pon- 
tiffs and councils unanimously pronounced against the 
motion of the earth; and but for very shame, would 
in all probability do so yet. Galileo, for the crime 
of discovering that the earth revolved round the sun, 
was imprisoned in the Inquisition. To escape the fate 
of Galileo, an eminent mathematician, who feared 
being suspected of holding the same heresy, took the 
precaution to state fn his book : ‘ I declare my sub- 


Danger in the Dark. 


247 


mission to the decrees of the Roman pontiffs against 
the motion of the earth. 5 Such language as this, con- 
trary to their inward convictions, learned men were 
compelled to adopt in Catholic countries, no longer 
ago than 1742, for fear of being overwhelmed by the 
anathemas of an ignorant clergy. 

u But why speak of what Romish priests have been ? 
let us rather talk of what they now are. They yet 
make religion and morals forbidden subjects of inves- 
tigation by the laity, even in this country. 55 

“ Mr. Carleton, I must say that I am a little incredu- 
lous as to the representations Protestants give of the 
proscriptive spirit and intolerance of the priesthood. 55 

“Well now, sir, I happen to have in my hand a 
genuine Catholic book ; and here I find in it an ac- 
count of the fourth general council of Lateran, as- 
sembled in Rome, A. D. 1215. I will read a brief 
extract from a document passed by that council ; 
6 We excommunicate and anathematize every heresy 
extolling itself against the holy orthodox, Catholic 
faith, which we before expounded, condemning all 
heretics, by whatsoever name called, having indeed 
different faces, but having their tails bound together 
by a common agreement in falsehood, one with 
another. And being condemned, let them be left to 
the secular powers present or their bailiffs, to be pun- 
ished with due animadversion ; if clergymen let them 
first be degraded from their orders, so that the goods 
of persons thus condemned, if of the laity, may be 
confiscated ; if of the clergy, they may be devoted to 


248 Danger in the Dark. 

the churches from which they have received their 
stipends. * * * And let the secular powers be 
warned and induced, and if need be, condemned by 
ecclesiastical censures, what offices soever they are in ; 
that as they desire to be reputed and taken for be- - 
lievers, so they publicly take an oath for the defense 
of the faith; that they will study in good earnest to 
exterminate to their utmost power, from the land sub- 
ject to their jurisdiction, all heretics, condemned by 
the church, so that every one that is henceforth taken 
unto any power, either spiritual or temporal, shall be 
bound to confirm this chapter by an oath. But if the 
temporal lord, required and warned by the church, 
shall neglect to rid his territory of heretics, let him 
by the metropolitan and the provincial bishops, be 
tied by the bond of excommunication ; and if he scorn 
to satisfy within a year, let that be signified to the 
Pope, that he may denounce his vassals thenceforth 
absolved from his fidelity, and expose his country to 
be seized by Catholics, who, exterminating the here- 
tics, may possess it without any contradiction, and 
may keep it in the purity of the faith. And those 
Catholics that, taking the badge of the Cross, shall 
gird themselves for the extermination of heretics, shall 
enjoy that indulgence, and be fortified with that holy 
privilege, which is granted to those that go to the help 
of the holy land.’ 

u That is, those who engage zealously in the bloody 
work of exterminating heretics, were to wear the 
badge of the cross and have granted to them indul- 


Danger in the Dark. 


249 


gences, such as were granted to the Crusaders. Bishop 
Hughes sajs: 4 It was not a doctrine, but only an 
opinion of the Church, that the civil powers ought to 
punish incorrigible heretics by death.’ But civil 
magistrates were compelled to obey the bloody decrees 
of the Pope and council, or forfeit their crowns, and 
meet the thunders of the Vatican. 

44 Allow me to read another extract from this Catho- 
lic work; here I find the creed of Pope Pius IV., 
published after the meeting of the Council of Trent, 
and which w T as designed to embody the doctrines of 
the council. The following professions are required 
of all who join the Church : 4 1 acknowledge the holy 
Catholic and Apostdlical Boman Church, the mother 
and mistress of all churches; and I promise and 
swear true obedience to the Boman Bishop, the suc- 
cessor of St. Peter, the prince .of the Apostles and 
Vicar of Jesus Christ. I most truly admit and em- 
brace apostolical and ecclesiastical traditions, and all 
other constitutions and observances of the same Church. 
I also admit the sacred Scriptures according to the 
sense which the holy mother church has held and does 
hold — to whom it belongs, to judge of the true sense 
and interpretation of the Scriptures ; nor will I ever 
take or interpret them otherwise than according to the 
unanimous consent of the fathers.’ 

• 44 You then may here discover, that the Church 
claims to be the only divinely appointed expounder of 
God’s revelation to man, and forbids, under severe 

penalty, any one to understand that revelation other- 
20 


250 Danger in the Dark. 

wise than as she directs. I will once more read from 
this Romish book; listen then if you please to the 
first canon of the Council of Trent on transubstantia- 
tion: ‘AVhoever shall deny, that in the most holy 
sacrament of the eucharist there are truly, really and 
substantially contained, the body and blood of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, together with his soul and divinity, 
and, consequently Christ entire, but shall affirm that 
he is present therein only as a sign, or figure, or by 
his power — let him be accursed .’ 

“When this council was about to adjourn, accord- 
ing to an account given by a Protestant writer, the 
presiding cardinal, the Pope?s legate, exclaimed : 
‘Anathema to all heretics !’ and the Bishops respond- 
ed, ‘Anathema! anathema!’ 

“ But I ’in aware of the fact, that he who ventures 
to unvail the hideousness of Romanism, or even expose 
half the deformities of the system, will be accused of 
calumny : not by Papists alone, but also by a large 
class of Protestants, who have never taken the trouble 
to inform themselves what Romanism is. Without 
knowing anything of the enormities justly chargeable 
upon Popery and priestcraft in other countries, and 
ignorant of their plottings and deep-laid schemes in 
this, they are ever ready, in behalf of Papists, to join 
the cry of persecution! Such accusations were 
hurled at Washington and Jefferson, men who had at 
heart the honor and safety of their country ; and who, 
even then, foresaw the perils that would one day over- 
hang this great Republic, through the stratagems and 


Danger in the Dark. 


251 


treachery of Romanists. They predicted that if our 
glorious system of government should ever be over- 
thrown, that priestcraft would be the cause. Mark 
this circumstance, it is not the timid, unread and 
illiterate, but men of sagacity, observation and expe- 
rience that look with distrust upon the Roman Hier- 
archy, and are most ready to sound the alarm when 
the priesthood manifest a disposition to usurp temporal 
or spiritual authority. When we look at the immense 
crowds of foreigners that perpetually flow into this 
country — the large majority of whom are ignorant 
and degraded — having been taught little else than 
implicit, servile and, blind obedience to their clergy, 
it cannot be thought strange that we should appre- 
hend danger to the civil and religious liberties we 
enjoy and so highly prize.” 

“ What, then, pray tell me, do you propose doing 
with the Catholic community ? Shall they be driven 
from our shores, and shut out from c the land of the 
free, and the home of the brave V 55 

“ By no means ; let them not be disturbed. But 
at the same time let them not disturb us. I only 
insist that Americans promptly resist priestly rule, 
dictation and usurpation in our governmental affairs, 
and give no countenance to the arrogant and pre- 
sumptuous pretensions of the Hierarchy to spiritual 
and temporal authority. It is time Americans should 
begin to understand the treacherous policy and ambi- 
tious aims of the priesthood. When we fully com- 
prehend the nature and tendency of Romanism, and 


252 


Danger in the Dark. 


the hidden motives that actuate the clergy, we shall 
regard them in a very different light from what we 
now do ; but it may then be too late to disentangle 
our feet from the snare.” 

“If Romanism be indeed all you imagine — anti- 
republican, intolerant and proscriptive — I see not 
what can be done toward rendering our institutions 
and liberties more secure than they are.” 

“We should achieve much by calling forth a bold 
and decided expression of public sentiment in this 
country against foreign interference in our domestic 
institutions. The immortal Washington said: ‘Against 
the insidious wiles of foreign - interference, the jeal- 
ousy of a free people ought to be constantly awake.’ ” 

Though a good deal discouraged in his first attempt, 
Carleton eventually succeeded in effecting an organi- 
zation, the chief object of which was, to encourage 
the building up and improvement of female schools 
and seminaries — convinced that the great want 
among Protestants of the right kind of institutions 
for the education of young ladies, was the chief cause 
of nunneries being patronized. 


CHAPTER. XXI. 

Bedini Nuncio to America — Finale of Dupin. 

Before returning to bring forward the more inter- 
esting and the principal characters in our story, it 
may be well to dispose of Bedini and Dupin after 
some further notice of them. 

Having in a previous chapter, in connection with 
the early history of Dupin, given an account of the 
scandalous life of Bedini in Italy, and the shocking 
inhumanity he displayed toward the republicans who 
were so unfortunate as to fall into his brutal hands at 
the suppression of the Italian Revolution in ’49, we 
are now to speak of him as Papal Nuncio to America. 

Upon his arrival in this country Bedini was received 
by the Catholic clergy with great eclat. Very natu- 
rally, curiosity was awakened in the minds of the 
American people, who observed the parade, to know 
who the distinguished stranger was on whom Papists 
were bestowing such fulsome flattery and unwonted 
adulation. Those who made inquiry concerning his 
mission, w r ere told by Bedini and his friends, that he 
was Nuncio to Brazil, and was but on his way thither. 
This was said by some very respectable and intelli- 
gent Italian gentlemen, then in New York, to be a 

' 253 > 


254 


Danger in the Dark. 


fabrication, and made for certain sinister motives, and 
the disguising of his real mission. 

That these Italians did not entertain groundless 
suspicions upon the subject, subsequent events fully 
proved ; for when, to avoid further exposure, Bedini 
ran away from this country, he took a vessel directly 
for Europe, instead of going to Brazil. 

About the time he cowardly skulked away from our 
shores, it was ascertained that the Pope of Rome had 
sent him to the United States for two objects, viz: the 
organization of a secret order of Catholics, called 
Sanfedesti ; and to wrest from the hands of certain 
disaffected Catholics in Philadelphia and Buffalo 
church property which was their own ; but who, con- 
trary to the usage of the Romish Church, held the 
property instead of giving it up to the priesthood. 

In the first object, that of setting on foot the San- 
fedesti order, this agent of the Roman Pontiff suc- 
ceeded ; in the second, he utterly failed. 

The Italian exiles in New York, and certain disaf 
fected German Catholics in Philadelphia, say that the 
Sanfedesti is a more dangerous order to civil and 
religious liberty than even the Jesuits. At anyrate, 
in Italy, so far, they out-herod Herod, and out-jesuit 
the Jesuits ! 

Upon his arrival at New York, Bedini took up his 
quarters with Du pin, his kinsman and old associate, 
from whom he had many years been separated. 

While conversing together relative to Bedini’s mis- 
sion, Dupin remarked : 


Danger in the Dark. 


255 


“Devil take the apostate Gavazzi ! I doubt not 
he ’ll blow on you all over this country ; and these 
Italian exiles will corroborate his testimony.” 

“I’m afraid so,” responded Bed ini, “ I wish they 
were all hanged, or had shared Bassi’s fate.” 

“ Gavazzi deserves no better treatment than you 
awarded that reprobate. You took ample vengeance 
upon Bassi.” 

“Ay, did I; it was a triumph — long had I hated 
him.” 

“With free good-will, no doubt, you signed his 
death-warrant.” 

“But that was not my greatest pleasure, to have 
him disconsecrated, and see him writhe as he was 
flayed alive, was my exultation !” 

“He must have suffered no less than if you had 
burnt him at the stake.” 

“ I intended it should be no less a punishment than 
burning alive ; but now-a-days, burning creates too 
much sympathy among the people — it ’s not safe to 
undertake it, even in Rome.” 

“Was there much feeling awakened in Bologna for 
Bassi ?” 

“ A vast deal ; I greatly feared a popular outbreak 
in his favor ; if he had been tortured publicly, there 
would have^een — nothing could have kept it down.” 

“ When this thing is charged upon you, which it 
certainly will be, for Gavazzi knows it all, and so do 
these exiles, you must sternly deny it, and lustily cry 


256 


Danger in the Dark. 


out persecution ! if you don’t, they ’ll take your hide 
off like as not. The cry of persecution has wonderful 
effect on Americans ; beside, there are gangs of office- 
seekers in all parts of the country, who stand ready 
to join in any cry that ’s popular, and most of them 
are becoming anxious to get in favor with Catholics, 
since they are growing strong, and will readily seize 
upon any pretext to wring in with us. And they 
know they can defend Catholics who are persecuted 
without giving offense to Protestants. So when you ’re 
attacked, you only have to raise the cry — persecution, 
and these fellows will 4 pitch in ;’ not but what they 
had as lief you ’d go to the devil as any other way, 
just as soon as you ’ve answered their purpose ; at the 
same time, they wilhbe doing you good service by 
changing the current of popular feeling and indigna- 
tion. I foresee just how the thing will work : espe- 
cially will those men who have an itching to be presi- 
dent, seize with avidity such an opportunity to make 
fair weather with Catholic voters. Should my predic- 
tion turn out true, and a popular excitement kindle 
fiercely against you, it will be well for you to make 
immediately for Washington; and you’ll find that 
some of the would-be presidents will 4 pitch in’ for you 
neck and heels; and they will get Congress to pass 
some resolutions in your favor ; then after that you ’ll 
have fair sailing — become a lion ! be toasted by all 
the great men of the nation, and may be, travel at the 
expense of the government — and if need be, have an 


Danger in the Dark. 


257 


escort of office-seekers, who will be proud to traverse 
the whole country with you, carrying a pocket full of 
rocks to keep off the mob.” 

“ Not a bad suggestion Dr. — if occasion require, I 
shall try to profit by it.” 

“ Well now about this secret society, the Sanfedesti; 
tell me more ; think yon, it can effect greater things 
than Jesuitism is able to accomplish ?” 

“Most assuredly; ’twas the Sanfedesti that over- 
threw the Roman Republic.” 

“With the help of the French and Austrian 
soldiers.” 

“But you should know that French interference 
was brought about through the instrumentality of the 
order.” 

“ Do you say so ?” 

“ Indeed I do.” 

“Perhaps then it’s just the thing we want in this 
country ; for I learn there is now springing up here 
in New York, a secret society, which has for its chief 
object, to oppose the ecclesiastical, and political 
power and influence of the Catholic church ; and it 
makes Bishop Hughes fairly shake in his shoes; he 
quakes with fear, and says if we don’t look sharp, 
they ’ll get us down before we know what we ’re about.” 

“ In heaven’s name, what kind of a society is it ?” 

“That’s what we’d like to know — they call them- 
selves Know-Nothings ; and that ’s all we know.” 

“ Know-Nothings ! what a name ! And you don’t 

know what the Know-Nothings are ?” 

21 


258 


Danger in the Dark. 


“ No, but we ’re certain they do something, while 
they know nothing.” 

“ What do they do ?” 

“ They shoot us through the liver, and we can’t tell 
where the arrow comes from.” 

“ And does it hurt ?” 

“ It makes the gall overflow rather freely.” 

“ ’Tis very curious.” 

“So it is — and that’s what confounds us. If a 
man has a drop of Catholic blood in his veins, he 
stands no earthly chance, where thes& Know-Nothings 
are, of being elected to any office whatever.” 

“Zounds! Is it so anywhere else than in New 
York ?” 

“ It is said, they are spreading rapidly in all direc- 
tions.” 

“ Blast their eyes ! how do they manage it ?” 

“ Don’t know.” 

“ But try to find out.” 

“It seems there’s nothing to find out only that we 
get licked ; and that we learn sooner than we care 
about knowing.” 

“ Is there no way to catch them ?” 

“ There ’s nothing to catch but a licking.” 

“ That beats the Sanfedesti.” 

“ Oh, they beat the very devil !” 

“ This is a wicked world !” 

“ Sa it is. Come, cousin, let us take another dram ; 
we were boys together!” 

“ So we were ; this brandy goes well!” 


Danger in the Dark. 


259 


“ I always keep the best article.” 

.“I’m afraid you take it too freely, Dr. — you look a 
little bloated.” 

“I’m obliged to stimulate constantly, for I ’ve so 
much to perplex me, and I ’m getting old and frail.” 

“ Long and faithfully have you served the Church ; 
and now heaven is waiting to receive you.” * 

“ I suppose so ; but for all, I’d a little rather stay 
in this world, Cousin Bedini.” 

“That ’s natural.” 

“ I hardly know why, but it has always seemed to 
me, that heaven must be rather a dry place.” 

“ So it has appeared to me ; I ’d like to have some 
assurance, they kept something to take up there.” 

“For fear of a drought in that country, I guess 
we’d better keep whetting our whistles while we have 
a chance.” 

“ Well, Dr., you spoke of an upper room in this 
house of yours, which may be suitable for the Sanfe- 
desti to meet in; it must be a very secure and secret 
place.” 

“Let us go up and take a look at it.” 

“ Agreed.” 

“But first we ’ll let on a little more steam, for that 
stairway is steep and long.” 

“ Be careful, however, that you do not take too much, 
you might fall and break your neck.” 

“ My neck is not one of the breaky sort — else it 
would have been cracked many a day ago.” 

“ I suppose it was pretty well tried, when that crazy 


260 Danger in the Dark. 

girl flung you out of the convent window at Cincin- 
nati ?” 

“ I think it was too.” 

“ Truly that was a narrow escape.” 

“ No escape at all, as I consider it ; for I lost one 
eye, and had my brain-pan fractured.” 

“Lead the way now, Dr., I’ll follow. Upon my 
word you stagger.” 

u Never fear — I can describe a bee-line.” 

“ This is hard climbing.” 

When they had nearly reached the top of the long, 
winding stairs, Dupin, growing rather top-heavy, 
staggered back, and fell heels over head ! Bedini 
was behind him, but thought only of saving himself ; 
sliding out of the way, he let his luckless cousin have 
the track, and a chance to tumble without obstruction; 
so one somerset followed another ; and the further 
he went, the faster — first one end up, and then the 
other ; at last, with one tremendous, frightful bound, 
he was precipitated like an avalanche to the foot of 
the stairway — and lighting on his head — broke his 
neck. It may not be uncharitable to conjecture that 
his frightened ghost went to join the majority. 
*##### 

Bedini had not figured long in the country, till his 
character was made known to the American people, 
by that excellent man, Father Gavazzi, who denounc- 
ed the Papal Nuncio, as the butcher of Bologna, and 
guilty of the death of Ugo Bassi. 

When this came out, the people in many places, 


Danger in the Dark. 


261 


thought proper to give an expression of their abhor- 
rence of his enormous crimes, and the scorn and con- 
tempt they felt toward the blood-stained wretch. 
Consequently in various cities which we visited, he 
was burnt in effigy— but always in a quiet and peace- 
able manner, without any attempt at personal violence. 

It may be here observed, that Bedinidid not receive 
the scorn and contempt heaped upon him in this 
country, because he was a foreigner; nor because he 
was a Catholic priest; neither because he held anti- 
republican and despotic principles, but because he 
was proven to be a brutal murderer ! The indigna- 
tion of the people was kindled against him, not only 
on account of the part he acted in the apprehension, 
and summary punishment of so many republicans, 
and his signing the death warrant of Ugo Bassi, but 
mainly for that most inhuman act of torturing the 
noble hearted patriot. 

It was certainly nothing new in this country for 
the people to express their disapprobation and feelings 
of abhorrence, by burning effigies. Have not our 
own native-born Americans sometimes been treated in 
the same way ? Even honest John Tyler, merely for a 
political measure, which awakened a burst of popular 
indignation, was burnt in effigy in many parts of the 
Union. At Nashville,' Tenn., the citizens, not content 
with hanging and burning poor John’s effigy, compel- 
led a negro slave to give it first a severe cowhiding. 

But who made a fuss about that ? was it denounced 
in the United States Senate? were the citizens of 


262 


Danger in the Dark. 


Nashville, or elsewhere, berated as heathenish ? Did 
political demagogues in any part of the country lift 
up their hailds in holy horror ? But when it comes 
to giving an expression of popular sentiment in a 
similar manner, against a Romish priest, who makes 
his appearance in our midst with his hands stained 
with the blood of patriots ; whose only offense was, 
a brave struggle for liberty, the people must be de- 
nounced as persecutors, outlaws, and vile calumnia- 
tors — and that in the Senate of the United States ! 

Bedini, not forgetting the advice of Dupin, his 
dead cousin, turned his steps toward the Capitol ; 
and sure enough, he found the would-be presidents 
all eager to “pitch in ” — each hoping to get a feather 
for his cap. 

The day following Bedini’s arrival at Washington 
City, a certain northern Senator, ( not the lean Cassius, 
whom a Csesar might fear) was proceeding pompously 
toward the Capitol, wrapped in deep meditation, as 
■well as a thick skin, and a superfluity of flesh and 
blood, for though lean of brain, sure his belly was 
fat! Thus he soliloquised: 

“Now’s my time to gather plumes; this Bedini 
affair will furnish me an excuse for saying something 
to please Catholics ; and Protestants will justify me, 
if I only succeed in convincing them that the fellow 
is really persecuted. It goes somewhat against the 
grain — I’ve got to stretch what little conscience I have 
left — for this Bedini, without- any doubt, deserves 
to be hanged* he looks the villain — and his own 


Danger in the Dark. 


263 


countrymen, who ought to know, say he is — and the 
very basest of villains ! Yet I must become his apo- 
logist, and make him out an angel if I can. There 
is no honesty in politics anyhow ; so it ’s not worth 
while to be squeamish ; I ’m in for it, and now I ’ll 
go the whole figure — if it sends me to the devil. 
I ’m bound to be President, cost what it will ! My 
chance is growing fair — the track is almost clear ; 
Clay and Webster, thank God, have gone to heaven ! 
But now I must manage this Bedini excitement just 
right — for as trifling a thing as it may seem in itself, 
yet it might turn a current in my favor sufficient to 
carry me high and dry ! But confound it, I ’m afraid 
too many asses will ‘pitch in’ to share the honor with 
me; if it so turns out, that will spoil the whole thing I 
Wouldn’t it be a God-send for me, if some three or 
four more senators that I could think of, should 
shortly go to kingdom come ? What harm can there 
be in wishing our fellow-men in heaven ; ‘where the 
wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest!’ ” 

On entering the Senate-chamber, he found Bedini 
already there tete-a-tete with several members around 
him ; fearing some one would get ahead of him in 
the matter, he hastened to prepare and submit a reso- 
lution with regard to the mission of the Papal Nuncio. 

“He’s taking time by the fore-lock whispered 
one southern member to another, “/intended to have 
led off in that affair, myself.” 

The northern Senator went on to speak at some 
length of the accusations hurled at the innocent head 


264 : 


Danger in the Dark. 


of the distinguished stranger. He pronounced him 
guiltless as an angel ; pure in heart as the driven 
snow, and spotless as the purple light of heaven ; 
declared that his hands were as free from the blood 
of Ugo Bassi as his own; denounced with exceeding 
bitterness and severity, all who had taken part in 
treating him with scorn and derision. 

Several members of the Senate chimed in, uttering 
similar sentiments — denouncing in unmeasured terms 
those who had taken a hand in burning the holy 
man in effigy, and otherwise offering insult, and 
'treating with contempt, so illustrious a divine 

By this time, Bedini had swelled up like a toad, 
and began to feel himself of more than considerable 
consequence. The fulsome flattery, and excessive 
compliments lavished upon him, inflated the fellow 
almost to bursting. But his reverence was timely 
saved from explosion by a few- counteracting remarks 
offered by a California Senator, near the close of the 
discussion, who delivered himself substantially as 
follows : 

“ I can see no good that will likely grow out of the 
resolution. The expression of public opinion cannot 
be put down, whatever the Senate may say or do. If 
Bedini is guilty of only one-half of what he is charged 
with by his own countrymen, then the people "are 
right in what they are doing.” 

These remarks drew forth loud applause in the gal- 
leries. A sudden revulsion was produced in the feel- 
ings of the Nuncio; he put on a grim and fiendish 


Danger in the Dark. 


265 


expression, contracted his brow and grated his teeth. 
And the Senators who had spoken in his favor, hung 
their heads and looked decidedly blank. 

This debate in the Senate, caused the Italian Exiles 
in the city of New York, to publish an address con- 
cerning Bedini. They charged him with having been 
a party to all the cruelties and executions which grew 
out of the suppression of the Italian Revolution in 
’49, and they gave the names of a number of Republi- 
cans who were executed, imprisoned and sent to the 
gallows, for the part they took in the revolution, by 
his direction. 

The address is signed by seventy-seven Italians now 
residing in New York, who are excellent citizens and 
truthful men. 

At the public meeting, called for the purpose of pre- 
paring the document, and also in order formally, and 
in a body, to declare their opinions as to the private 
and public character of Bedini, several speeches were 
made by men of sterling moral worth and eminent 
talents, who had been compelled to leave their country 
on account of their connection with the revolutionary 
movements of 1848. 

Mr. Foresti was appointed president of the meeting, 
and on taking the chair, made an appropriate, elo- 
quent, and deeply-convincing speech — from which 1 
give the following extract : 

‘‘After Bedini had received the lamentable order 
of the Pope to enter the Four Legations as Commis- 


266 


Danger in the Dark. 


sioner Extraordinary invested with sovereign power, 
I received numerous letters from the Romagna, and 
several public journals. In these were to be found 
the feelings and opinions of the various parties either 
in favor or opposed to the papal government and the 
declining Roman Republic. Well, these writers all 
agreed in this — that the appearance of Bedini was 
marked with blood and with sorrow. It was dreaded 
by the people as the appearance of a comet was- re- 
garded by our simple ancestors — as the ill-omened 
token of some great "calamity. 

“ And it was so. The Four Legations of Bologna, 
Ferrara, Ravenna and Forli, are the most populous, 
productive and progressive portion iof the Pontifical 
domain. There the Roman Republic was proclaimed 
and welcomed with the greatest enthusiasm ; thence 
were furnished in the greatest numbers the brave 
volunteers who fought at Vicenza and Treviso, and 
who defended so heroically Rome and Venice. There 
the hatred to the despotism of papacy is traditional 
and ancient. The papal government knew this well, 
and vowed at Gaeta to take an exemplary vengeance., 
To render it terrible and complete, it was necessary to 
find a man by nature insensible to the voice of pity ; 
a stranger to Christian love ; decided and inexorable. 
Such terrible men are never wanting to Sovereigns. 
The Emperor of Austria found one in France; the 
Pope, another in Bedini. But the first was at least a 
man of arms and war, which had rendered his heart 


Danger in the Dark. 


267 


callous to the sense of tender emotions. The other 
was a priest, educated in the mild doctrines of Christ ; 
he was therefore worse than the first. 

“ Bedini accepted the odious office. It was the 
plain duty of a true minister of God to refuse it. — 
Bedini marched toward the walls of Bologna, contain- 
ing seventy thousand persons, with a division of 
Austrian Croats, well equipped with abundant means 
of death and destruction. Eight days of desperate 
strife — the burning of houses, the death of numerous 
citizens ; famine at last put an end to the tragedy. 
Bedini entered, the conquered city with his Croats. 
He, clothed with perfect sovereign power, proclaimed 
martial lav^ throughout all the territory of the Four 
Legations -By this brutal law are suspended at once 
all other I&ws, preservative of order and justice ; cus- 
tomary forms of procedure abolished ; judges are con- 
stituted from soldiers of rank, and sentence is sum- 
• marily passed, by tap of drum, to death, to the 
galleys, to exile, to the bastinado. This law was en- 
forced by a priest — by Bedini. It came not, it could 
not come from the Austrian General. To make or 
abrogate laws is an attribute of sovereignty, and this 
attribute had been delegated by the Pope to Bedini, 
and not to the General. But this law was a terrible 
instrument of vengeance in the hands of Bedini, and 
he made use of it without mercy. We defy the apolo- 
gists of Bedini to deny it. Let them read all the 
journals in the pay of the government at that accursed 
epoch. They will see that in Bologna, in other cities, 


268 


Danger in the Dark. 


in the towns or villages of the Four Legations, there 
were published numerous sentences of death, of im- 
prisonment, or of exile. They may find in these 
journals the names of the victims, and the day of 
their sacrifice. 

“ They will see that the police of Bedini, like hun- 
gry wild beasts, hunted after and ferreted out the 
Republicans. On every side, families had some of 
their members under interdiction from leaving the 
house under severe penalties ; others suffering domi- 
ciliary perquisitions for suspected papers ; at the Post- 
office the sacredness of sealed letters was violated ; 
persons were summarily banished, without form of 
trial, for the slightest doubtful expression or even 
word — for the slightest suspicion were awarded prison 
and persecution. The Government of Bedini was in 
short a real reign of terror. 

u Bedini, say his apologists, had not the right or 
the power to check or modify the evils arising from 
the existence of martial law in the provinces. But I 
ask, who could and who did proclaim this martial 
law f The Sovereign alone, the Pope. Who repre- 
sented the Pope in the Four Legations ? Bedini. 
What was the position of the Austrian General in 
Bologna ? Simply that of a General, called and paid, 
together with his troops, to reconquer for the Pope, 
the Romagna from the power of the republicans. The 
spirit and the will was Bedini — the corporeal part 
of the compound was the Austrian General. Who 
collected and put into judicial form, the evidence and 


Danger in the Dark. 269 

witnesses to condemn the patriots ? The local police. 
Who arrested the persons suspected ? Who assigned 
their prisons ? Who directed their administration ? 
Who named the Italian Concillire, of the Court 
Martial ? Who caused the accused to be brought 
before the Court Martial ? The local police. Who 
was it that directed this police ? Bedini. 

“ For these reasons, the populations of the Ro- 
magna do not curse so much the Court Martial, but 
Bedini . 

“Had such a service been undertaken by a military 
officer, he would, like Haynau, have lost every parti- 
cle of reputation for humanity. But what shall we 
say of a priest, a minister of God, a preacher of the 
gospel, a messenger of peace, who can undertake such 
an office 1” 

Mr. G. Gajani followed, in a highly interesting 
speech, from which I take the following : 

“When Bassi and our other compatriots were 
assassinated and during the commissionership of 
Bedini, I was not in America, I was in Italy, and but 
a few miles distant from the theater of such terrible 
iniquity and barbarity, and in Bologna, where many 
of you know I have relations and friends. I can, 
therefore, relate events to you as they actually took 
place. After having placed in safety my brothers who 
were seriously wounded, I escaped with difficulty into 
the territory of the little republic of San Marino, 
where I was detained a few days in consequence of a 
slight wound and an attack of gastric fever. On this 


270 


Danger in the Dark. 


occasion I sawUgo Bassi with Garibaldi, whose chap- 
lain he was. We dined together, and upon leaving, 
Bassi manifested the presentiment which he had of 
his approaching end. I tried to persuade him to 
remain, but in vain ; this was but forty hours before 
his execution. He embarked at Cesenatici with Gari- 
baldi, Forbes, and two hundred and fifty others to go 
to Venice, but their little boats were partly taken and 
partly sunk by the Austrians. Col. Forbes with many 
others were taken prisoners. Garibaldi and his wife 
landed and hid themselves in a little pine wood, 
La Pinita di Bavenna, where she died of fatigue. Ugo 
Bassi had also landed and was seeking an asylum in 
the same wood, when he was taken and made prisoner 
of war ; the body of troops who captured him was 
commanded by Prince Ernest, son of the Archduke 
Bassini, who sent Bassi with the other prisoners to 
Bologna, to be placed at the disposition of the 4 Ex- 
traordinary Commissioner of the Four Legations.’ 

44 Bedini, who felt against Bassi malignity of caste 
and the hatred of the vile against the great and virtu- 
ous, sent him to the Commission, with orders to con- 
demn him to death. 

44 To persons of good sense, I wish to make a sim- 
ple observation. It is now seven or eight months 
since this question was first agitated, and it was for 
Bedini’s interest to clear himself from the accusation. 
There are still at Bologna the Members of theJdilitary 
Commission, and all others who took part in public 
affairs. General Gorzkowsi is still in Italy. Why 


Danger in the Dark. 


271 


did not Bedini send for the proofs of the innocence 
which his defenders allege ? It would have been an 
easy thing to do so, because the deed was no secret, 
and in fifteen days a letter can reach here from Bo- 
logna. I received the news of the condemnation and 
death of Bassi at San Marino, which is about seventy 
miles distant. All cursed Bedini for this execution. 
A few days after, I succeeded in taking refuge in 
Piedmont. Here the papers were full of the event ; 
the liberal ones accused Bedini, the Reactionary, 
which are il Catolici of Genoa PArmonia and lo 
Smascheratore of Turin, defended him ; they did not 
deny the fact, but lauded him for having slain Bassi, 
whom they loaded with calumny. I wrote at that 
time, some articles upon the subject for a Genoese 
paper, called Italia, but I was notified by the police, 
that being an emigre, I had no right to the liberty of 
the press, and I abandoned the controversy. I then 
went to Turin, and remained there until last February. 
The persons who came from Bologna and the Pied- 
montese papers, even the most moderate, always spoke 
against the wicked actions of Bedini. He had revived 
torture for political prisoners ; he denied passports to 
wives who wished to rejoin their exiled husbands ; and 
forbade the return of sons who went to visit their 
banished parents. It would take too long to recount 
all his misdeeds. I have proved two of the gravest, 
and am sufficiently repaid in being able to give the lie 
to the praises lavished upon him by the deluded. 
But the American people have shown themselves 


272 


Danger in the Dark. 


more sensible than the men in authority. Bedini has 
finished by making himself a sign of universal exe- 
cration. His arrival in certain cities was signalized, 
like that of a wild beast. Gavazzi, who first denounced 
him to an American public, received great honors, 
and when he left, was accompanied to the steamer by 
hosts of friends. His stateroom was filled with 
flowers and other parting gifts, and six cheers rent the 
air as he receded from sight ! Bedini fled in secret 
like a malefactor. This finale to the first Nuncio sent 
by the Pope of Koine to the United States of America, 
is worthy of the Jesuitical imposture and baseness 
into which papacy has fallen. This terrible institu- 
tion is near its end. — Pius the IXth will be the last 
Pope; Gaetano Bedini, the first and last Nuncio to 
America.” 

* # * # * * 

Before dismissing this dignitary, it may be well to 
notice, very briefly, some unhappy events that grew 
out of his visit to Cincinnati. This, perhaps, I can- 
not do to better advantage than by relating the follow- 
ing conversation, which was overheard at a late hour 
on Christmas-night, soon after the police-riot. 

“ What is the excitement, Mr. Allen ?” said a female 
voice, addressing a gentlemen who had just entered 
the drawing-room where she was seated. 

u A riot,” replied he in a tone and manner that 
betrayed the agitated state of his mind. 

“ Surely our city police do not do their duty.” 
u That is a clear case, madam.” 


Danger in the Dark. 273 

[ “ Did they make no attempt to suppress the riotous 
proceedings ?” , 

“They were themselves the rioters, madam.” 

“ What, the police guilty of a riot ?” 

“Yes, and most outrageous, inhuman and disgrace- 
ful conduct.” 

“ Can it be possible ? ’T is indeed a sad thing, 
when the men whose duty it is to preserve the peace 
should be the readiest to violate it.” 

“ Order-loving and law-abiding citizens no longer 
compose the Cincinnati police.” 

“The officers who control the police forces must be 
incompetent, or else exceedingly remiss.” 

“ They are both ; yet quite competent to instigate 
difficulty among citizens, and blow the slightest spark 
of dissension up to a destructive conflagration.” 

“But how did this difficulty happen, and from 
what did it spring ?” 

“Why, this Papal Nuncio, who recently arrived in 
the city, and over whom the Bomish clergy here are 
making so much ado, it seems, has been the occasion 
of it.” 

“ Bedini ?” 

“ That ’s what they call him, I believe, and a stu- 
pid, thick-skinned looking fellow he is.” 

“ How did they manage to get up a riot about him?” 

“There is in the city a society called ‘Freemen,’ 
as, perhaps, you are aware, composed chiefly of Ger- 
mans — a very orderly, intelligent and respectable class 
22 


274 


Danger in the Dark. 


of citizens. Being well informed with regard to the 
Italian Devolution, and the overthrow of the Doman 
Depublic, and not ignorant of the part Bedini had 
acted in the tragedies of ’49, and cherishing as they 
do a profound hatred for tyrants, and abhorring every 
form and species of despotism, and now, seeing this 
Papal Nuncio flattered and caressed in a land of free- 
dom, after having murdered an apbstle of liberty in 
his own country, and having helped to assassinate so 
many patriots, they could not forego an expression of 
their indignation, and resolved to show their contempt 
and deep-felt scorn for the despicable wretch in the 
most public manner possible — yet to proceed about it 
in a quiet and peaceable way.” 

“ But why did they select the Sabbath for such a 
demonstration ?” 

“ They regretted to do so; but having learned that 
Bedini was to leave early on Monday morning, they 
thought it better not to miss the chance of letting 
him know in what estimation he was held by the 
friends of liberty. They, however, waited till about 
ten o’clock at night, that they might not disturb any 
worshiping assemblies by their proceedings. At 
that hour, having prepared an effigy of Bedini, which 
was surmounted by a miter or pontifical crown, they 
formed a procession, and proceeded toward the public 
market-space on Fifth street, where they intended 
burning the effigy. The chief of the police went in 
company with the procession until he ascertained to 


Danger in the Dark. 


275 


what point they were directing their course ; then 
quitting their ranks, hastened to where his armed 
forces were in waiting for further orders.” 

tc But did he not admonish the leaders in the pro- 
cession that the city authorities were about to inter- 
fere and put a stop to their proceedings ?” 

“No ; said not a word, nor gave them the slightest 
hint that the police would in any way oppose what 
they contemplated doing, but led his men on to the 
corner of Plum and Ninth streets, where, in ambus- 
cade, they awaited the approach of the procession, 
which consisted of unarmed men, women and children, 
whom they surprised and furiously assailed with gwns, 
pistols, knives and clubs.” 

“Can it be possible? Surely the police did not 
know there were women and children in the proces- 
sion ?” 

“ How could they help knowing it ? they had their 
spies out watching the movements of the 4 Freemen’s 
Society,’ who made all their arrangements openly, and 
without any attempt to conceal their intentions ; and 
the chief of the police was himself a spy among 
them but a few minutes before he led on the brutal 
attack.” 

“ Were many hurt ?” 

“ One man was killed, and some sixteen or more 
wounded, and some very seriously, if not mortally.” 

“ Shocking ! most shocking ! Do you suppose they 
really aimed to kill, or only to frighten the Freemen, 
and break up the procession ?” 


276 


Danger in the Dark. 


“As to the intentions of the police in that respect, 
you can judge for yourself — they just pitched in, 
shooting, stabbing and knocking down ! The poor 
fellow that lost his life was surrounded by several 
policemen, some kicking, some striking, and others 
shooting him.” 

“ Can it really be possible they were so dastardly 
and inhuman ?” 

“ I- saw the whole transaction with my own eyes. 
The first shot he received staggered him, then he was 
struck on the head with a mace, which felled him to 
the ground, and after he was down they shot him 
three or four times.” 

“ What horrid brutality ! Had he no weapons to 
defend himself!” 

“None — he made no resistance; yet the remorse- 
less and heartless assassins could not be satisfied with 
anything short of Indian barbarity.” 

“ Could you render him no assistance ?” 

“ How was it possible ? I had nothing to fight 
with ; the procession didn’t stand to give battle ; not 
dreaming of being molested, they were without weap- 
ons of defense. What could any number of unarmed 
men have done in resisting a hundred policemen, 
who most unexpectedly sallied forth from ambush, 
attacking them with deadly weapons of every descrip- 
tion, and disposed to show no quarter to the van- 
quished ?” 

“ Such an outrage was never before heard tell of!” 

“I presume never — at all events, in no civilized 


Danger in the Dark. 


277 


country. But the outrage did not end there. Sixty- 
four persons, including the wounded, were dragged to 
the watch-house, and with blows and curses crowded 
into suffocating cells, so closely that they had neither 
room to lie nor sit down ; and there the wounded and 
bleeding, without aid of any kind, were compelled to 
stand upon their feet till morning. I insisted on the 
windows being opened to give them fresh air, for 
which the chief of police and other ruffians cursed 
and threatened me.” 

“ In the name of humanity what kind of men are 
they ?” 

“Not men — but fiends! If you had heard the 
obscene language, and horrid oaths of the vulgar 
wretches, and. witnessed their worse than brutal con- 
duct, you wouldn’t call them men.” 

“ Where on earth was the Mayor and Police 
judge?” 

“ They made it convenient to be absent, in order 
I suppose, to avoid responsibility ; yet ’tis evident 
they counseled the policemen to proceed in the affair 
as they did.” 

“ What could have been their motives for such 
conduct, and unheard of cruelty ?” 

“ Why, in the first place, devilment is their natural 
element. Secondly, they imagine there is something 
to be gained by servility to Romanists, and obsequi- 
ously becoming the tools of the clergy. They, no 
doubt, now expect great honor from the priesthood, 
^for resenting in their behalf, so bravely, the insult 


278 Danger in the Dark. 

which the Freemeh and Freewomen, had the teme- 
rity to offer the Nuncio.” 

“ Think you, the Society of Freemen intended no 
violence ?” 

“If they contemplated anything rash, they would 
certainly have left their women and children at home ; 
and they say, they had not the most remote thought 
of injuring any one, either in person or property. 
Indeed, there is no reason whatever, to suppose they 
intended anything more than to exhibit publicly their 
contempt for Bedini, the atrocious assassin of Ugo 
Bassi. And that , they had the unquestionable right 
to do if they chose.” 

###.** * 

The Komish clergy of this country, finding that 
Bedini was getting in worse repute among the Ameri- 
can people, the longer he stayed, and that such devel- 
opments were being made with regard to his scan- 
dalous life, as to bring reproach upon themselves, 
advised him to hasten away. The charges preferred 
against him by Father Gavazzi and the Italian exiles 
in New York, being fully substantiated, however, 
before he was able to get out of the country, the 
guilty wretch became dreadfully terror-stricken, and 
concealed himself several days in New York, guarded 
by Irishmen and the Police. He finally sailed for 
Europe, on board the steamer Atlantic. Upon his 
exit, the Louisville Pioneer, a German paper, com- 
ments in the following style: “ It thus appears that 
the mission to Brazil was either an impudent fabrica- 


Danger in the Dark. 279 

tion or that he feared being welcomed in South Ame- 
rica in the manner of his reception here.” 

But as a suitable climax to the history of Bedini’s 
mission to this country, we may add, that soon after 
his return to Italy, he took it into his head to convince 
the American people that he was verily a saint, not- 
withstanding their unfavorable opinions of him : so 
he writes to this country, stating, not only on his 
own veracity^ but also on the veracity of the Pope, 
that during his commissionership, and the enacting 
of bloody scenes at Bologna, a miracle was wrought to 
evince God’s approval of his conduct. Which mira- 
cle, was the moving of the eyes in the Virgin Mary’s 
picture. 

The enlightened people of this country, want 
weightier testimony than the say-so of Bedini, and 
his master, the Pope, that such a miracle ever hap- 
pened ; and for one, if convinced that the wonder 
really occurred, I should certainly be disinclined to 
regard it as a sign of heaven’s approval of the inhu- 
man deeds of the monster, Bedini — but the reverse. 
If anything could start the eyes of the blessed Virgin’s 
picture, and make the senseless colors stare upon the 
canvas, it would be such horrid butcheries. Had 
they told us the picture wejpt, shedding tears of blood, 
the story would have been almost plausible. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


Anna Maria, Isadora and others on a pleasure excursion to the 

Far West — Perils — They visit the Hermit of Wildwood-vale — 

Return to the Queen City — Connubial. 

We now return to take up the broken thread of 
our narrative. 

Anna Maria Gerard and Enola Glenn, on a sum- 
mer evening, when the sun was low, were leisurely 
promenading the garden walks together, with arms 
gently encircling each other’s delicate waists, when 
the following conversation occurred between them: 

“ Enola, hath Alonzo yet made known to Isadora, 
that her father is not dead, as she has long supposed, 
but lives a hermit, away beyond the Mississippi?” 

“He hath not.” 

“ For what reason, think you, does he delay 
making the disclosure to her?” 

“He fears it might have an unhappy effect upon 
her mind — and possibly cause a return of her 
insanity.” 

“ I am aware she is very nervous, and easily ex- 
cited — but I have not of late perceived any symptoms 

of an unbalanced state of mind.” 

( 280) 


Danger in the Dark. 


281 


“ Nor I ; yet as she has not the means, nor oppor- 
tunity of visiting him, it is perhaps better she be left 
still with the impression that he sleeps in the quiet 
grave. The thought of his living alone, and so far 
away, amid wild solitudes, would doubtless affect her 
much .” 

“Means need not be wanting while I have plenty. 
As good fortune would have it, that hypocritical 
priest, with all his Jesuitical schemes and trickery, 
didn’t quite compass his perfidious designs in getting 
my estate into his hands.” 

“That the plotting reprobate was baffled and 
disappointed in that, as well as in some other ends 
he aimed at, gratified me exceedingly. Alonzo told 
me, with respect to Isadora, that so soon as his own 
pecuniary circumstances would justify it, he intended 
again to visit the hermit, and persuade him, if he 
could, to leave his solitary abode, and return to 
Cincinnati.” 

“ No doubt, he would now” be easily prevailed 
upon to do so, since his daughter has abandoned the 
cloister.” 

“ So I think.” 

“ Let me tell you, Enola, what kind of an enterprise 
I have, for the last few days, been contemplating — 
you ’ll think it visionary, I dare say ” 

“No matter — let me hear it, Anna.” 

“Autumn is now near at hand, which, you know, 
is a pleasant season for traveling.” 

“ Yes.” 

23 


282 Danger in the Dark. 

“ I ’ve had a singular desire to see those wild regions 
in the far-off west, ever since I heard Alonzo speak 
of his travels thither. The glowing descriptions he 
has given me of the blooming prairies, enchanting 
groves, and the herds of untamed animals that rove 
over the plains, have filled my mind with romantic 
visions, and kindled within me a spirit of adventure. 
Now why could we not make up a little party, equip 
ourselves for a kind of gipsy life, and take a pleasure 
excursion — visit Wildwood-vale, and bring the hermit 
home with us ?” 

“ O, it would be delightful!” 

“Do you suppose Alonzo would willingly accom- 
pany us ?” 

“Beyond a doubt he would — nothing would please 
him better. Are you really in good earnest, Anna ?” 

“ Most assuredly I am.” 

“ Indeed it would be charming! The very thought 
of it transports me!” 

“I’ll freely be at all the expense for an outfit, 
and pay whatever charges may accrue till we return ; 
and if you are in for it, Enola, the matter is at once 
settled, and we will immediately make preparations.” 

“In for it? certainly, heart and soul!” 

“So far then, the thing is decided upon; we are to 
make a pleasure excursion. Now whom shall we in 
vite to accompany us ?” 

“Whom do you say?” 

“Well, I’d like to have Alonzo for one. I need 
not, however, have told you that.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


283 


“I could, perhaps, have conjectured as much.” 

“ And we shall want, of course, Isadora, Arabella, 
and Mary Glidewell along.” 

“Yes ; and it will be necessary to have more than 
one gentleman; two at least, beside Alonzo.” 

“Whom shall they be?” 

“ I hardly know. O, there comes Mary Glidewell 
now !” 

“ So she is ; I’m right glad of it.” 

“Let us leave it with her, as to what other gentle- 
men shall be selected.” 

“Agreed !” 

“Happy to see you, Mary! Hope your ideas are 
bright as usual; we have something to submit to 
you for a judicious decision.” 

“Please not to devolve any weighty responsibilities 
on me ;” responded Miss Glidewell, as she entered the 
garden, “for my thoughts to-day, are dull as lead.” 

“We have something to tell you that will sharpen 
them up, and make them shine and sparkle like 
morning sunbeams.” 

“ Good ! just what I stand in need of, for I ’m dying 
of ennui.” 

“Hear then, what Anna proposes.” 

“Something good, I ’ll warrant.” 

“ I know you ’ll think so.” 

“ Tell it in few words, Enola, for you ’ve now got 
curiosity on tip-toe, and my expectations already sit 
in air.” 


284 Danger in tiie Dark. 

“Well, this it is: Anna proposes to get up a 
party of about eight, for the purpose of making an 
excursion through the prairie regions of the west, 
away out toward sundown ; and on our route, kidnap 
the hermit of Wildwood -vale, and bring him to a 
land of civilization ; so that he may receive Christian 
burial, when his time comes, and stand some chance 
of being found in the day of resurrection.” 

“I see, now, you ’re just disposed to quiz me.” 

“No, upon honor.” 

“Do you say on honor? Enola is then in earnest.” 

“We are in earnest, Mary, about going on a plea- 
sure excursion, and we expect to bring Mr. Norwood 
home with us.” 

Mary now clapped her hands in ecstasy, and 
skipped about as if she were going wild. 

“We have agreed to let you decide, Mary,” said 
Anna, “what gentlemen, beside Alonzo, shall be in- 
vited to accompany us. Three gentlemen will be 
enough; that will make a company of eight; you 
know, of course, who the five ladies are ?” 

“ It wouldn’t take me long to guess.” 

“Now pick out two gentlemen, whom you would 
be pleased to have with us.” 

“Well, I’ll suggest, Lyman Burbanks and Will 
Wimple.” 

“ Ho ! ho ! what on earth induces you to make 
such a choice as that ? I’m sure you do not admire 
either of them.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


285 


4 1 select Burbanks for being a wit, and Wimple 
for being a fool.” 

44 A wit we might sometimes need to enliven us ; 
but what use have we for a fooll” 

“ The wit can’t shine without a fool to help him.” 

“Now that ’s strange logic ; we ’d like to have the 
rationale of it.” 

44 Can you light a match without something to rub 
it against.” 

44 Friction of course is requisite, that it may ignite.” 

44 So is friction requisite, that wit may kindle and 
sparkle.” 

44 Then your wit must have an obtuse brain to light 
his matches on ?” 

44 Beside that, his blunders will now and then fur- 
nish us with something to laugh at ; which will not be 
amiss by the way. Then he is so duck-legged, and 
looks so much like a china-pig! his appearance is 
sufficient to keep up our risibilities.” 

“ I ’m disposed to make no objection to the choice, 
but am rather afraid your dunce will turn out a bore.” 

44 If he should, we ’ll trade him off to the Indians 
for a pappoose.” 

44 Now, let us decide what will be needful for an 
outfit; we must be furnished and equipped with 
everything necessary to our comfort and convenience 
during our long excursion.” 

44 As you propose paying charges and meeting all 

expenses, Anna, we must leave it for you to say what 

the outlay shall be.” 

' 


236 


Danger in the Dark. 


“We will want a large vehicle — something aitei 
the style of an omnibus, perhaps — and four good 
horses to draw it ; beside, we must have two or three 
saddle-horses, for change and variety; a pack of 
hounds ; several guns, pistols, cooking-utensils, pro- 
visions; a movable canvas tent, blankets, traveling 
apparel, etc.” 

So the whole plan was agreed upon in the same 
hour that the novel adventure was first suggested. 
Preparations were accordingly made. The persons 
whose names have already been mentioned formed 
the party; and in less than a fortnight from -the even- 
ing on which Anna proposed the excursion, all things 
were in readiness, and the romantic expedition com- 
menced. In great glee, and overflowing with hilarity, 
the party set out from the Queen City on the first of 
September, an autumnal-looking day, the redness of 
the sun and smokiness of the atmosphere indicating 
the setting in of an Indian summer. 

As it is intended to note only the leading incidents 
and most prominent events of the excursion, we will 
pass over several days’ travel, till we come to where 
the tourists take their first vieji of the Grand Prairie, 
and make a descent upon an arm of it from Pine 
Eidge, in the north-western part of Indiana. 

’T was a lovely morning; the golden sun had risen 
in a cloudless sky ; the party had pitched their tent 
the night previous in a pine- wood, about an hour’s 
ride from the edge of the prairie. Having break- 
fasted at dawn of day, they were upon the travel by 


Danger in the Dark. 


287 


sunrise. Anna Maria and Alonzo led the way, 
mounted on noble horses, elegantly caparisoned ; Miss 
Glidewell followed, riding a very tall horse, and along- 
side her rode Will Wimple, perched on a little pony, 
talking with all his might, and nearly breaking his 
neck to look up at his lady companion, which re- 
quired him to throw back his head as if gazing at the 
stars ; and his pony being a clumsy, rough trotter, 
bounced the little man upon his seat like a ball, to the 
no little amusement of the facetious Mary. The rest 
of the company were in the four-horse vehicle, bring- 
ing up the rear. Emerging from a deeply-shaded 
forest to an eminence thinly covered with pine-trees, 
the immense prairie suddenly burst upon their view, 
with all its resplendence and surpassing grandeur. 

Instinctively, Maria and Alonzo at the same instant 
reined up their horses, and all came to a halt, and for 
some moments, in profound silence, contemplated the 
imposing scene outstretched before them. It was an 
uninhabited region, and had never been marred by 
the hand of civilization. Flowers of the richest hue, 
in endless variety, enameled the vast extended plain ; 
and the distant groves, dotting it here and there, ap- 
peared like emerald isles floating in a sea of glory. 

All gazed with rapture upon the magnificent prospect 
except Wimple and the hounds — he was whistling to 
them, and they were wagging their tails to him. Even 
the horses pricked up their ears, and proudly lifting 
their heads aloft, looked out with evident admiration 
on the wide wide prairie ! 


288 


Danger in the Dark. 


“What think you of the grandeur of the Grand 
Prairie, Anna?” said Alonzo, turning a glance upon 
the lovely girl by his side, who sat absorbed and lost 
in contemplation. 

“Oh, ’tis ineffably sublime!” she exclaimed. “How 
inspiring ! how enrapturing ! and how condemnatory 
of the cloistered life! Within the gloomy walls of 
the convent I was a stranger to the delicious sen- 
timents that now fill my mind while gazing upon 
this display of the wisdom, infinitude and glory of 
God !” 

“False must be the theology that would vail from 
our eyes the beauties and sublimities of nature.” 

“Mr. Wimple,” observed Mary, “how does the 
glowing prospect here unfolded to mortal vision affect 
you f” 

“ Rather straining on my eyes, Miss Glidewell, I 
declare.” 

“ But how does it affect the eyes of your mind ?” 

“I never knew before that the mind had any 
eyes.” 

“ ’T is not every mind that has.” 

“ Well, I guess my mind is one of that sort.” 

“ I shouldn’t wonder ; but say, have you no ad mi 
ration of this sublime scenery ?” 

“ Certainly ; I think it pretty.” 

“ Pretty, do you say ? That is by no means an 
appropriate word to represent such magnificence.” 

“ Why, don’t you say it ’s pretty ?” 

“A great deal more than pretty.” 


Danger in the Dark. 


289 


“ What a place for raising sheep !” 

“ I fear there’s but little poetry in your soul, Mr. 
Wimple.” 

“ I subsist on something more substantial.” 

“ Corn-beef and sour-crout, I imagine ?” 

“ They relish enough sight better to my taste than 
poetry.” 

“Well, every one to his taste.” 

“As the lady said when she kissed her calf.” 

“ She kissed you did she ?” 

“ I ’m no calf, I thank you.” 

“ Seen too many summers, I dare say ?” 

“ Yes, he ’s a full-grown bullock,” remarked Bur- 
banks ; “but I’m sorry he happens to be of the scrub' 
breed sort.” 

“Now which way are we going to travel, Mr. 
Carleton ?” inquired Mary. 

“Bight through the prairie — a westerly direction.” 

“ What, without any road ?” 

“We need none. Do you see yon largest grove, off 
to the right ?” 

“ Yes ; and it looks as if it might be inhabited by 
fairies ?” 

“We ’ll steer for that, through this sea of flowers 
and waving verdure.” . 

“ How far do you reckon it ?” 

“ About fifteen or twenty miles.” 

“So distant? — it seems nearer. I should have 
guessed not more than three or four miles — five at the 
outside.” 


290 


Danger in the Dark. 


“ These prairies greatly deceive the eyes, you ’ll find.” 

Again they moved forward — dashing down upon 
the dewy plain in a sweeping trot — all full of life and 
animation. But not far had they advanced, when 
Wimple’s pony unluckily struck his foot against a 
goffer-hill, and fell down, tumbling his rider off, heels 
over-head! The soft, matted grass, however, pre- 
vented him from getting hurt. Gathering himself up 
amid the shouts and laughter of his companions, he 
soon gave signs of being ruffled, and pitched at his 
pony to give it a chastising ; but having no whip, and 
being in the prairie where there were no clubs, he 
concluded to use his feet, and so commenced kicking 
his poor animal furiously ; his legs, however, proved 
rather short to effect much, and finally making a miss- 
lick, he lost the center of gravity, and fell backward 
on his head. This gave fresh occasion for merriment; 
Burbanks cried “bravo!” and the whole company 
laughed immoderately. Now still more enraged by 
the second mishap, and the merriment which was at 
his expense, he again made a terrible assault upon 
the little horse, both with curses and blows ; but this 
time used his fist instead of his foot, and managed to 
hurt himself a great deal worse than he did pony. 
Getting out of breath, he at last desisted, and again 
mounted, saying, as he did so: U I guess now I’ve 
beat some sense into you, and taught you a morsel of 
decency.” 

“If sense and decency,” remarked Burbanks, “can 
be pounded in with the fist, it would most undoubt- 


Danger in the Dark. 291 

edly prove a blessing to the rider, if some one should 
condescend to maul him a while.” 

Being too angry to ride in company, Wimple now 
hung in the rear some distance, looking very sulky. 

After traveling a number of miles, they came to 
undulating prairie, the surface lying in waves, resem- 
bling much the billows of the ocean, when tossed 
by a heavy gale. Occasionally, among these waves 
was to be seen a basin — that is, a depression in the 
earth, forming a small valley two or three acres in 
extent — and generally, perfectly round ; these basins 
sometimes become lakes ; but usually, the water sinks 
below the surface, in the summer season, and then 
luxuriant grass, and the tall flag -spring up, entirely 
concealing the mud and mire at the bottom. 

Alonzo, taking his spyglass from his pocket and 
pointing it in various directions, at length, chanced 
to discover a gang of wolves, some distance off. Im- 
mediately announcing the fact, all became eager for 
the sport of giving them chase. Those in the vehicle, 
unwilling to lose any share of the fun, immediately 
unharnessed their horses, and in a few minutes, 
women and men were mounted, and ready for the 
wolf-chase. Wimple, however, still lingered behind, 
looking very morose. 

“Now,” said Carleton, “when we start them, they 
will probably make for yon large basin which lies 
upon our left ; and when once ensconsed in that high 
grass, they will be out of our reach ; for the surface, 


292 


Danger in the Dark. 


although beautiful and green, is a perfect quagmire, 
perhaps five or six feet deep ; so it will be expedient 
for two out of our number, to go and station them- 
selves between the basin and the wolves; and as Mr. 
Burbanks is a firstrate marksman, I suggest that he 
be one for that post.” 

“Very well, replied Burbanks;” “you proceed 
with the ladies and the hounds, and start the wild 
animals in the direction of the basin, and I will wait 
here till Wimple comes up, whom I ’ll put in a good 
humor by telling him what a good marksman he is ; 
then we will go with our rifles and take the position 
you have suggested.” 

“ Agreed !” 

And away went Alonzo, Maria, Isadora, Arabella, 
Enola, and Mary, wild with excitement ! and after 
them the hounds, no less excited, and snuffing the 
breeze as they went, eager to catch the tainted air. 

“ A chance now for rare sport, Mr. Wimple !” said 
Burbanks, as the former came up, “ we have disco v^ 
ered a gang of wolves, which they have gone to start : 
it was unanimously decided, that you and I are the 
closest shooters ; so it is agreed upon, that we station 
ourselves off here to the left, near yon little vale, 
where you see that high grass ; they are to drive the 
wolves in that direction, and when they come with- 
in gunshot, we ’re to pepper them with our rifles. 
Here’s your gun ; let us be expeditious.” 

Wimple was directly in a fine humor, and began 


Danger in the Dark. 


293 


to boast of what marvelous shots he had made on 
various occasions. And they hastened to take their 
position, about forty rods from the basin. 

“I ’ll depend upon you, Mr. Wimple,” remarked 
Burbanks, “for a sure shot.” 

“ I can knock a wolfs eye out, at a hundred yards, 
every crack!” responded Wimple, boastingly, “if I 
can’t, then bury me alive !” 

“ But let me admonish you, Mr. Wimple,” said 
Burbanks, “these Grand-prairie wolves are fearful 
animals to encounter ; if there should be many in the 
gang, you ’ll hardly be safe on that little pony ; they 
might eat you and your little horse up before we 
could possibly rescue you from their voracious jaws: 
but I ’ll tell you what you can do in case of danger ; 
just put spurs to your pony, and dash into that basin 
down there, and conceal yourself among the tall grass; 
wolves never go into such places.” 

Kow the hounds began to bellow, and the sound of 
horses’ feet were heard in the distance ; soon they 
came thundering on like a tempest, making the solid 
earth tremble before them ! Directly the pursued 
and pursuers were in full view ; the dismayed wolves 
flying to the basin for refuge ; the bellowing hounds 
just behind ; and at their heels, the riders, all hal- 
looing at the top of their voices. 

“They’ll be on us in a moment!” exclaimed Bur- 
banks, “ there ’s vengeance in them wolves — see, their 
eyes look like balls of fire !” 


294 : Danger in the Dark. 

Wimple was seized with a panic, and faced about 
toward the spot which Burbanks had recommended 
as a place of safety ; and as he began to put spurs to 
his pony, he cried out to the^ hounds— 44 Catch ’em 
Towser ! sic’em, puppy !” And in full speed, made 
tracks for the basin. 4 Discretion is the better part 
of valor soliloquized the terror-stricken fellow, as he 
pressed forward to a hiding-place * 44 1 didn’t esteem 
it prudent this time to 'jpitch inf” said he, just 
as pony leaped into the horrid quagmire. Plash ! 
went the water and mud, flying twenty or thirty feet 
high. Then followed such floundering, and plunging, 
as perhaps, never before was witnessed. The wolves 
and hounds, in a few seconds followed suit, pitching 
in to the basin, pell-mell ! 

Pony was not long getting rid of his rider, whom 
he left up to his neck in mire. The sporting company 
directly rode up to the edge of the basin, to witness 
the dire confusion : 44 A rare show !” exclaimed Bur- 
banks, as he beheld dogs, wolves, bullfrogs, Wimple 
and pony all together, performing rare feats and most 
astounding exploits. By a tremendous effort, Wimple 
extricated himself from the hole into which he was 
first precipitated, and perched upon a tuft of grass, 
barely sufficient to sustain his weight above the water ; 
but the poor fellow was not destined long to enjoy his 
enviable position — the enraged wolves and dogs in a 
tussle, came rudely against him, tumbling him head 
foremost into the mire again. The ladies, now moved 


Danger in the Dark. 


295 


with compassion, shouted to him to make for dry- 
land : encouraged by their voices, he put forth all his 
energies, and after a brief struggle, dragged himself 
out more scared than hurt. Pony too, after prodigious 
floundering, made good his escape; the dogs soon 
growing weary of their battle-ground, abandoned the 
fight, and retired from the muddy scene in disgust, for 
which they received the hearty thanks of the bull- 
ftogs, who were quite unaccustomed to such pugilistic 
visitors ; and Major Bullfrog, the chief dignitary, 
among the inhabitants of the basin, declared after all 
was over, that he had been quite frightened out of his 
wits, and wondered in his soul where such pugnacious 
barbarians could have sprung from, as had just raised 
such a rumpus in their peaceful domain ! 

Wimple received the condolence of the ladies, which 
soon pacified him ; and after a plentiful application 
of water, which, they had the good fortune to find 
near-by, the little man and his pony, were thoroughly 
cleansed from the filth of the mire ; and directly the 
company again took up their line of march across the 
prairie. 

Near sunset, they reached a beautiful grove, through 
which flowed a clear, running brook ; there they 
pitched their tent, kindled a bright fire and cooked a 
delicious supper. Alonzo, having luckily killed a fine 
deer within a short distance of the grove, fresh veni- 
son furnished a rarity for their table that night. And 
they had a delightful time, talking of the day’s adven- 
ture, and the romance of their journey. Wimple 


296 


Danger in the Dark. 


becoming fully appeased over his warm coffee and 
smoking venison, laughed heartily as the rest, at men- 
tion of his immortal leap into the frog-pond. 

**#*#### 

Each successive day brought with it some novelty, 
and such romantic scenes and incidents as kept up an 
unabating and lively interest in the minds of our 
excursionists, until they had crossed the Mississippi, 
and penetrated into a wilderness region of Missouri, 
where, unfortunately, falling into the hands of a clan 
of marauding Indians, they were made prisoners. 
This sad and fearful stroke, seemed at once and for- 
ever, to cut off all their delightful anticipations, and to 
leave them without a single ray of hope. The savages 
who surprised and captured them, were more than 
double their number — and came upon them unlooked 
for, and at a moment when they were least prepared 
to offer resistance. The party would not, however, 
have tamely surrendered, notwithstanding the dis- 
advantages under which they were placed, had it not 
been for false pretensions of friendship, made by a 
treacherous white man, who accompanied the red 
men, and was their chosen leader and chief. Dis- 
claiming everything like hostile intentions, upon their 
first approach, the marauders quieted the apprehen- 
sions of Alonzo and his companions, until they were 
fully within their power, and it was utterly out of 
the question to make a defense. 

The prisoners, notwithstanding the apparent hope- 
lessness of their condition, manifested great courage 


Danger in the Dark. 297 

and remarkable firmness, with, however, a single ex- 
ception, poor Wimple, he boo-hooed ! Stouter hearts 
than his have oft given way to despair, and that too 
under lighter trials. The chief sternly refused to 
give them any other satisfaction as to what would 
likely be their fate, than to inform them, they were 
bound for Red river. 

The marauders proceeded with their captives and 
their booty about a half day’s journey, when calling 
a halt, they encamped for the night. 

Fortunately for the prisoners, Burbanks was some- 
thing of a dare devil as well as a wit. Conceiving it 
possible to take advantage of the ignorance and 
superstition of their captors, and possessing, as he did, 
more than ordinary magnetic power, he approached 
the chief unexpectedly, and in a bold, resolute manner 
slapping him on the shoulder, then looking him sternly 
in the eye, said : “ Villain, do you know that I ’m in 
compact with the devil, and possess the power of 
witchcraft ? You ’re a fugitive from justice, and to 
escape the gallows have fled civilization. Look up ; 
face me, I tell you ; there now, you are bewitched, 
and can move neither hand nor foot!” 

And sure enough, the fellow stood powerless, and 
was at once subjected, mentally and bodily, to com- 
plete mesmeric control. After causing him to go 
through a variety of singular maneuvers, to the great 
amazement of the Indians, the magnetizer commanded 
him to speak to the savages in their own tongue, and 
tell them of the infernal power he was master of; and 
24 


298 


Danger in the Dark. 


that unless they consented to fall down and worship 
him, he’d cause the earth to yawn and swallow them 
up. The magnetized chief instantly obeyed ; seized 
with sudden fear, the aborigines prostrated themselves 
before the supposed demon. While they did so, the 
prisoners neglected not to secure their weapons. The 
captors then became the captives. Wimple now 
laughed as heartily as he had cried, and insisted upon 
shooting every one of the clan ; Burbanks, too, was 
rather in favor of summary vengeance, but was dis- 
suaded from it by the young ladies. Throwing the 
magnetic influence off the chief, that he might have 
a proper sense of his defeat, Burbanks said to him : 
“ We are now about to part, and for acquaintance 
sake I ’ll just take one of your ears. Should you ever 
visit the Queen City, Mr. Chief, you can have the 
pleasure of seeing it in the Museum, by paying a 
quarter of a dollar.” Saying which, he drew a keen 
blade and clipped his right ear off; then pointing 
toward Bed river, assisted him with his boot in mak- 
ing a start on his journey. The Indians he served in 
the same manner — who were all glad to get off on 
terms so easy, after being, as they confidently believed, 
in the hands of the devil. 

With lighter hearts, the tourists retraced their steps, 
and in a few hours returned to where they had been 
captured. 

On the following day they reached Wild wood- 
vale. The sun was sinking in the west, while yet hia 
lingering beams tipped with gold the tree-tops that 


Danger in the Dark. 


299 


gently waved their branches o’er the hermit’s domicil, 
and the aged man, who was lord of the vale, sat at 
the door of his cottage in silent, solemn meditation. 

Isadora had yet been kept in the dark with regard 
to the chief object of the excursion ; and knew not 
still but that her father had long been numbered with 
the dead. She, with the other four young ladies, 
having become tired of riding, had dismounted, and 
were walking a few rods in advance of the horses and 
vehicle. As they began to descend the green slope 
in view of the hermitage, Isadora exclaimed : 

“ Sure as I live, there ’s a human habitation.” 

“ So there is — away here in this wilderness !” res- 
ponded Enola, as if she too was but that moment 
apprised of its existence. 

“ And see,” exclaimed Isadora again, “ there sits 
at the door a man ! — a lone man, with snowy locks.” 

“ True !” observed Anna, “ how solitary he looks !” 

“ Some sorrow-stricken one, it may be,” remarked 
Isadora, in a plaintive tone, “whose cup of life has 
been imbittered.” 

“He has discovered us,” observed Mary Glidewell, 
“and is rising to his feet.” 

“Ho doubt, he’s much astonished,” said Arabella. 

“How much he looks like my father!” exclaimed 
Isadora, as they drew near.” “ If he were not in his 
grave,” continued she, “I’d say — ■” 

Leaving the sentence unfinished, she suddenly 
paused, turning deadly pale, and riveting her eyes 
upon the hermit, who stood motionless, regarding 


300 


Danger in the Dark. 


his fair visitors with amazement, and after a moment, 
said, with much stress of utterance, u how very like 
my father !” 

“ ’Tis Isadora’s voice,” said the trembling sire, 
in a tone loud enough to be heard, and recognized 
by his daughter. 

“ My father ! my father !” she cried — and rushed 
into his arms. Tears of joy were shed — joy unutter- 
able ; and every heart was touched, and softened by 
the affecting scene. 

* * # Morning came — ’twas a golden morn, 

and nature wore a smile, even in the wilderness. 
The sun had scarcely exhaled the dewdrops that 
gemmed the forest leaves, when the excursionists 
turned their faces toward the Queen City, joined by 
Norwood, the hermit, who cheerfully bade farewell 
to his solitary abode. 

# # # * # # 

On the last day of autumn, all improved in health 
of body and mind, the pleasure-party safely returned 
home — where a smiling welcome greeted them. At 
Squire Glenn’s, a magnificent supper was given 
them on the same evening of their arrival. And to 
crown the feast, Anna Maria Gerard was made a 
bride — and Alonzo Carleton was the bridegroom. 


THE END. 


NOTICES OF THE PRESS. 


Danger in the Dark is a book for the times, and should have gene- 
ral circulation; we predict for it a rapid sale. — Cin. Daily Times. 

The Author draws a vivid picture. While the book will amuse 
many readers, it will also instruct them.— -West. Christian Advocate. 

The Author has succeeded admirably in depicting the evils of 
priestcraft, and that, too, in a most pleasing style — such as will in- 
sure a perusal from all into whose hands it may fall. — Cin. Enquirer 

The incidents of the book are thrilling fictions, the dialogues 
spirited, the language strong and well-constructed. — Cin. Commercial. 

Danger in the Dark is a rich and rare production. In style it is 
seldom equaled; in truthfulness never excelled. It must immor- 
talize the name of its gifted author, and be read by millions when 
he lies silent in the grave. — Jeffersonville Republic. 

In style this work may be rather florid, and, perhaps, too humorous 
for ua old folks, but it is certainly well calculated to please and 
profit the young. — Brookville American. 

Here is a true picture and faithful delineation of Jesuitism, 
and the infernal schemes, treacherous policy, and anti -republican 
movements of the Romish Hierarchy. — Seventy-Six. 

Danger in the Dark is truly a work of genius; and we are happy 
to find that it is so generally appreciated and eagerly sought for. 
The first edition is already nearly exhausted, and the second is soon 
to be issued. It cannot fail to delight every class of readers, and 
accomplish much good. — Jeffersonville Republican. 


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